


In This Together

by TraycSedai



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Light Angst, Magical Tattoos, Minor Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf, Romance, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tauriel and Legolas are siblings, Thorin is a Softie, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TraycSedai/pseuds/TraycSedai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her 600th naming day, the Elven Princess of the Woodland Realm awakens to a terrible, burning pain...</p><p>On the other side of the world, a newborn Khazad Prince meets his widowed mother for the first time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know its been a really long time, (BIG thanks if you've stuck with me!!) but I have finally been able to carve out some time to write and I am going through my old works and updating the places I feel need it...the story is staying the same, but I am cleaning up the grammar and the dialog, so you may see some changes. Looking back, I am proud of what I have put on paper, but I can see clearer now how it can be better! Thanks again and hopefully I can do the updating quickly and get a new chapter out soon...

Sometime before sunrise on the morning of her 600th naming day, in the year 2864 of the Third Age, Princess Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, Captain of her father, King Thranduil’s, Royal Guard, was startled into wakefulness by a terrible burning sensation on her upper left arm. She struggled to sit up and immediately pushed her blankets away, sliding the sleeve of her shift down to investigate the cause of the intense pain. The sensation was so great, she cried out before she could stop herself and her heart began to race in her chest. When she looked at her arm, it was glowing; bright white and hot as a forge fire! Through the murky haze of pain, she thought she might know what was happening… _but Valar help her_ ; this was most certainly _not_ the Elven way! The scorching heat and searing pain began to ebb as she tried to calm herself, breathing deep and gritting her teeth to bear it as best she could.

As quickly as it had arrived, the burning pain was gone; less than half an hour since it had begun. As it subsided, Tauriel ran to her dressing table to look in the mirror. _Her people did not_ _burn_ … _they_ _cooled_ _for crying out loud!_ Every tale she had ever been told regarding a soul bond between Elves, involved the soul mark being cool, almost icy to the touch, such that the bearer felt a chill… _never this awful burning!_   That was how you were to know your One; the brand on your arm would cause you a most pleasant shiver in their presence.  As she studied her arm in the mirror, she saw what she feared she might from the onset of this ordeal; that hers was most assuredly _not_ an Elven mark.

In their culture, the mark (which for all intents and purposes, resembles a tattoo) appears as silver Sindarin script on the bicep, and proclaims the deep name of your true One. But the writing on Tauriel’s arm was not _in_ Sindarin; nor were the runes she saw, in any language she recognized. _But what race on Arda did these strange, thick, black runes belong to? What people could burn so hot as this?_ Tauriel wasn't certain she wanted to know...

A lesser concern, but still disconcerting, was that after more than five centuries without one, Tauriel had been certain she would never be soul marked. While it was not unusual for an Elf to be born without a mark, it was a common and long standing belief that if an Elf did not have one by the age of three centuries or so, it was not likely to happen.  She had made peace long ago with the idea of living her life alone and had focused instead, on her duties as Captain of her father’s guard and Princess of her people. She was content with her lot as well; it wasn't as if she were to inherit the throne, after all.  Nor would she be required to produce heirs; her older brother, the Crown Prince Legolas, would sit next on the Antler Throne after their father.

Yet for all of that, here she was, examining what was indeed, without any doubt, _a soul mark_.  All she knew for certain in that moment, was that the true match to her soul had been born somewhere out in the wide world, in a place beyond the Greenwood of her people. Tauriel wasn’t sure why, but while frightened by the thought of it, she was also… _intrigued._

***

On the other side of the world, in the Khazad Halls of the Erid Luin, the cries of a new born baby boy echoed around the mountain home. His birth brought great joy to a time of terrible sadness for his people, for his mother was the recently widowed Princess Dis of Durin’s Line and the dark haired babe would be her last reminder of his father.

The Princess had received word of her beloved husband’s death in battle and in her grief had gone into an early labor. The child was a moon too early, but the midwife held hope that the strength of the mother’s blood would prevail to see her and the babe through. Indeed, the greatness of the Line of Durin re-affirmed itself that day as the baby came screaming and healthy into the world, bringing with him enough resolve and fortitude for his mother to live another day.

When the midwife had cleaned him up and handed him to her, the Princess gazed happily upon her son and saw, to her great astonishment, that he had been born with a soul mark! This was a rare occurrence and always cause for great celebration in their culture, as it meant that the bearer had a true One waiting for them somewhere. It meant that her little Kili (for that was what she had named him) might be blessed to know a love like she and his father had shared. Of course, what she was absolutely not expecting was that the brand on her infant son’s left arm would be written in a foreign language and not in their native Khuzdul.

The customary thick black runes of their people were nowhere in sight; in their place she recognized a not too unfamiliar, flowing, silver script that almost completely encircled his little arm like a cuff... _and which was cool to the touch!_  It was an _Elven_ brand! She did not know what it said, as she did not read Sindarin; nor was she certain what it might mean for her son.  Dis decided then and there that she would tell no one of this development, except her brother Thorin, the King.  Little Kili, along with his older brother, was now an heir to their kingdom, and she felt her brother had the only other right to know. She shared a meaningful look with her midwife and immediately swore the woman to secrecy. In time, if her son decided to share this secret with others, it would be _his_ choice.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...I have made it this far in my updates! There are some minor changes you may notice in the flow of the story. I can be overly descriptive sometimes, so I tried to streamline the meat of the narrative to get more quickly to the plot points...hope the changes enhance the experience versus detract from it!!!

_77 Years Later…_

When the Company of Thorin Oakenshield arrived dirty, disheveled and exhausted in the Valley of Imladris, his sister-son and youngest heir, was in absolute awe.  Kili had never seen a place so singularly beautiful in all his short life.  In truth, he had never actually seen any Elves before either; for all that he bore an Elven soul mark. There had never been an opportunity or a reason (that could be justified to his uncle at least) prior to their Quest, for Kili to associate with any; even though their Halls in the Erid Luin were not considered far from the Elven home known as the Grey Havens. He was sure his uncle was under the impression that they could just ignore Kili’s soul mark and somehow it would go away.  He rubbed his upper left arm unconsciously through his travel stained leathers; a gesture that often calmed him when he was nervous.  He wondered what might await him in this strange and ethereal place. 

Kili had known his entire life that his Uncle Thorin, and most of their people, harbored a deep distrust, bordering on outright hatred, of all things Elven.  The root of these feelings lay in an eastern Elven stronghold, still half a world away, known as Mirkwood Forest, and with the Lord of that realm, King Thranduil; whose trespasses against the Khazad, Kili knew, were great. That Thorin and the others tended to lump _all_ Elves together in their thoughts of them, however, seemed unfair to Kili for one very specific reason; _he didn’t like to imagine that his One would be deserving of such contempt_.  Indeed, he felt keenly, the unfairness of his uncle’s overly generalized opinions the first time he met Lord Elrond of Rivendell. 

***

Elrond and his people were the exact opposite of all Kili had been taught of Elves and their nature.  They were friendly, kind and generous (especially with their food and wine); although perhaps a little too reserved for Kili’s tastes.  Upon their arrival, Kili had taken an immediate liking to the Elf Lord; an affinity which was reciprocated, to his uncle’s dismay.  Their host's casual and relaxed nature gladdened Kili and fueled a small flame of hope inside him that if ever he did find his One, they might be like Lord Elrond.  His heart swelled a bit at that thought. 

On the afternoon the Company had, unwisely and ungraciously, decided to bathe in one of the ceremonial fonts, Lord Elrond had approached the frolicking Dwarves to advise them sternly that use of the fountains of Imladris to wash, was not permitted.  As he surveyed them all, his eyes lingered on Kili for just a moment longer than the rest and to his astonishment, Kili saw the Elf's eyes widen ever so slightly before quickly recovering himself enough to unexpectedly request a private audience with him after their evening meal.  

As a lad, Kili had done his best to keep his mark secret to all except immediate family, at his mother’s insistence; but that had proven near impossible while traveling.  In fact, he had long since given up attempting to hide it from the rest of the Company, as just about everything done on the road was communal.  After so much time traveling together, his companions' interest in his anomalous soul mark had all but waned anyway.  Simply put, it had become second nature not to worry about it and the idea never crossed his mind to cover it as they had gleefully stripped down to their skins and hopped into the fountain. 

***

During the meal that evening, Kili could think of nothing else besides his impending meeting with Lord Elrond. 

“Are you nervous to meet with him alone? Wonder what he’ll have to say…” Fili asked; the Elf's interest in Kili's mark had been noticed by more than himself.    

“Yeah, a little nervous…and…I truly have no idea,” he said quietly as he absently rubbed his arm again.  Fili nodded thoughtfully at his brother. 

“Maybe you’ll get some answers, yeah?” Fili said hopefully, and then added more quietly, “Hey, it hasn’t, you know… _done anything_ …since we got here?”

“No! No, brother", Kili hissed.  "Nothing has happened with it since we’ve arrived.  It feels the same as it ever does”, he answered, somewhat dejectedly.  He wasn’t sure of exactly _what_ might happen, when or even _if_ , anything ever did; but there had to be… _something_.  Secretly, he had hoped that that something might occur while they were here in Rivendell.  In fact, as Kili was attempting to flirt with the pretty harpist during dinner, he had even tried _willing_ himself to feel something… _anything_ …from his mark.   But nothing came.  The Elleth had all but ignored him anyway; and that was certainly nothing new. Most women, and especially Dwarven women, completely ignored him with his lanky body and dark coloring; they much preferred his fairer colored and stockier, elder brother.  

Traditionally, within the Khazad, he knew that when someone encountered their One, the mark would burn fast and hot, like a forest fire, until they openly acknowledged what was in their hearts.  He had absolutely no idea what happened to Elves who found their One. 

Even though his situation was a rare occurrence among his people, Kili knew he was not the only descendent of Durin with a _non-traditional_ soul mark.  In fact, he wasn’t even the only one with an _Elven_ mark!  His younger cousin Gimli, who was deemed just far enough behind Kili to not be permitted to join the Company, had also been born with silver script on his arm; and his father Gloin was just as obtuse about it as Thorin was about Kili’s. But stranger still was his own brother’s mark. 

Fili, who had not been born with one, had developed a mark just over 17 years ago.  The event in itself was not an odd occurrence; due to their extended life spans, Dwarves often times wouldn't develop a mark until into their late sixties or early seventies.  But Fili's mark was also not of the Khazad; instead, what had appeared was the image of a small Thrush.  There were no words...just the dark shape of the little song bird.  Thorin, who had spent much time living and working in the towns of Men, had told them that Fili’s mark belonged to one of that race, and that it represented not a deep or true name, but rather the spirit animal that guides a human’s soul; nothing more had really ever been said.  _How would Fili know his One?_

He decided then that he would trust Lord Elrond with his questions and fears; after all…if one of the oldest and wisest of the Eldar didn’t know the answers he was seeking, who would? 

***

After their meal, as Kili made to attend Lord Elrond in his study, his uncle pulled him aside and in a hushed tone said “I do not like that you will be alone with … _the_ _Elf_.  Mind your tongue and do not give anything away about the Quest.  It is _our_ business; not theirs.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Clear as diamonds Uncle.  I promise.  I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Thorin snorted. “Are you certain you know how?” he asked dryly, with a fond smirk and then grabbed Kili by the back of the neck and brought their foreheads to rest against each other. 

After a moment, he released Kili and his countenance became serious. “We do not often discuss yours or your brother’s soul marks,” he began, indicating he was aware of what the Elf Lord wanted with his nephew. “And I know that my opinions on the subject have not always been fair or kind to you.  I have my reasons of course…” he grunted.  “But if I am honest, I must also admit that I feared a better understanding of your mark would lead you away from us; away from your mother, Fili and I. And I was not willing to entertain that possibility with how much loss our family has already been forced to endure.”

Kili was stunned to silence, eyes going wide.   His uncle Thorin was never one for strong emotions.  _Well, unless those emotions were aggravation, annoyance, anger…_

“I…I am sorry”, Thorin continued, voice thick; a suspicious sheen appearing in his eyes.  “I have attempted to keep you from knowing yourself better; of trying to learn what life might have in store for you.  While I am still afraid where your mark may lead you, I wanted you to know that I truly do want you to find answers and that I, your mother and your brother, will support whatever you feel you must do.” 

“Uncle, I…I don’t…you don’t…” Kili stuttered, unable to coherently convey his thoughts.  He was completely overcome!  Never, in 77 years had his uncle ever said such things to him.  He had never felt more love or respect for the Dwarf standing before him; his King... _his father_ for all intents and purposes.   His eyes began to burn traitorously…

“We will deal with whatever comes…together.  You have my word Nephew; I will not forsake you if fate sends you an Elf for a One,” he said as he gently wiped away a tear that had escaped his beloved nephew’s eye.  Then, with a wry look, he added “Just make sure it’s not one of Thranduil’s lot, yes?”

Kili released a sharp breath he hadn’t known he was holding back and gave a relieved chuckle.  “I’ll see what I can do, Uncle.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, a Tauriel chapter :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tauriel chapter :) - which has been updated (05/10/18)!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Hanar - Brother  
> Nethig - Little Sister  
> Ada - Father  
> Naneth - Mother  
> Tinu - Little Star

 

As the dark of remaining night was lightening to the brightness of a new day, a sweaty, dirty and slightly ill-tempered Tauriel was returning to the palace after having been on patrol in the forest for over a week with her scouting party.   Her Company had located several new spiders' nests and had more than once joined in battle; some of the Guard even taking injuries.  Thankfully none were overly serious and she was very grateful there was not worse to report.  Over the centuries, the Princess of the Woodland Realm had been a firsthand witness as the slow and deep evils of the world began making their way into the lands long held safe by her people.  As soon as she could, Tauriel had joined the Royal Guard to combat what she saw as an ever present and growing threat to the safety of their kingdom.   

***

She did not relish having to debrief her father, the King, in front of his full Council, as there were several members who were not of the same opinion as she that more needed to be done to eradicate the vermin trying to strangle their forest; and idly, she wondered if they would even listen to her full report this time.

Tauriel had spoken often and at length, with her brother Prince Legolas, regarding the frightening lack of concern oft shown by the Council, headed by her father's First Councilor, Lord Duath, and of the possibility of taking a battalion of the King’s regular army directly to the spiders' source in the old fortress of Dol Goldur.  Without their father’s and the Council’s consent however, her brother, who was in fact Commander of the Woodland Realm’s forces, was, in a word… _hesitant_.  So it fell to Tauriel and her Royal Guard to protect and keep unsullied the Wood they called home.

Now, as she entered the throne room and bowed slightly in deference to her father, she noted her brother had managed to artfully remove himself from the morning’s meeting.  She would miss his support during her address to the Council, but would be sure to seek him out later and chide him for his absence.  Besides, it was always enjoyable to sit and discuss her patrols with him over a glass (or several) of a strong Dorwinion vintage.  Together, they would strip away the trappings of their duties and responsibilities and be just a sister and brother; forgetting for a while they were royalty and leaders of men.

“My Captain…glad is my heart at your safe return.  What news have you from the forest?” her father inquired.

Long ago, when she had earned command of Thranduil’s Royal Guard, it had been decreed that all would address her, at least in regard to the daily goings on of the Kingdom, as the Captain of the Royal Guard that she was; her title of Princess being customarily reserved for more formal or celebratory occasions, much to her whole-hearted approval. 

“My Lord, we fought and killed many spiders and burned three new nests.  The closest was not five miles from this very palace, presided over by an older Queen, which after some amount of searching and chase, we were able to locate and neutralize.  Three of my men took minor injuries during the pursuit.” she said, her timbre rising as she continued to speak. “I fear however, that soon our ever increasing efforts to drive off the filth poisoning our forest will be in vain. Their actions grow bolder, their numbers constantly rise and they are penetrating much deeper into our sanctuary than ever before.  Surely you can see that…” but before she could raise the old argument further, Lord Duath, who was seated to the King's right, interrupted her.

“Captain, we have discussed this many times,” he said, voice dripping with sanctimony. “We have faith that your Guard is more than capable of defending our home, and this Council will not risk unnecessary danger to our people by foolishly wasting valuable resources to send soldiers south. If your report to us is complete, then you are dismissed.”  Her father and King just sat there, staring at her, impassive.  She stared back...waiting.  

“By your leave my Lord,” Tauriel said after a moment, addressing her father, the King.  She was certain the red flush on her cheeks gave away her anger at this dismissal, but knowing it was pointless to argue, bowed again and began to make her exit.

“Captain?”

“My King?” she replied, turning back towards her father.

“I would have you and your brother join me for the evening meal,” he said.

“As you wish my Lord.  When next I see the Prince, I shall pass along your... _invitation_.”

“See that you do.”

***

The scowl Tauriel was wearing upon entering her suite in the royal halls could have killed a goblin on sight.  All she could think about was a long, hot soak.  She couldn’t wait to slough off the grime of a week's long sojourn in the forest; as well as shed the added tension caused by the Council.  Her thoughts were so distracted, she almost didn’t notice her brother lounging on the settee by the fireplace in her sitting room as she strode past him. 

An involuntary smile formed on her face as she spotted him, and her mind drifted for the millionth time to just how different they truly were. 

Legolas had long, almost white, blond hair ( _thanks to their Ada_ ) whereas _her_ locks were considered a most unattractive shade of ruddy red ( _obviously inherited from some long ago forgotten hack of an ancestor, for their Naneth had been graced with the most beautiful, dark blond hair_ ).  His complexion was as clear as porcelain, while hers was a freckled mess.  He was calm, patient and considering; she had a sharp temper which she often failed to suppress quickly enough. In general, she let her emotions show far more blatantly than their people thought appropriate.  Tauriel was considered... _passionate,_ if people were being polite and reckless if they were not; _mo_ _stly they were not_.  Her own brother was wont to say that she was the most un-Elven Elf he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

“Hanar?” she smiled as she crossed the room to him. “What are you doing hiding here?  Shouldn’t you have been with Ada this morning?” she chided good naturedly.  

“Nethig!” he replied, a wide grin forming on his face as he rose in an attempt to embrace her.  “I am sorry that I missed your report, but I just could not bring myself to attend another council meeting this week.  Your rooms were so fortuitously empty…so…”, he trailed off with a mischievous smirk as he gestured around her rooms “…I chose to await your return here.  Be assured, however, the King kept me busy while you were off _gallivanting_ in the forest.”

“Gallivanting hmm? Oh and…I wouldn’t get too close if I were you!” she said laughingly as she held him at arms length. “We _gallivanted_ enough to where I now smell as foul as an Orc!”

“Indeed.” He replied, scrunching up his nose, backing away. “You may even smell _worse_ than that!” he laughed playfully.  “I promise I won’t keep you long, but I was anxious to see how you fared and was certain that Ada and the Council, as usual, would only request an abridged version of events.  Tell me _all_ Nethig.”

She immediately complied, and sitting down cross legged on the floor (to avoid dirtying the furniture) proceeded to relay to her brother all the gritty and minute details of the expedition which her father had not wanted to hear, complete with appropriately foul language when she reported how she had been so rudely dismissed by the priggish Lord Duath. 

When she finished, Legolas’ face wore a thoughtful expression.  She could tell he was as deeply troubled as she about what was happening in their Wood; that five miles was no distance at all!

“You will have my bow and my knives at your back on your next patrol”, he said softly.  “And I will stand by your side when you give your next report.  Perhaps the two of us can convince them to take more action.”   

She didn’t think that would be likely, but at the moment, didn’t have the strength to argue it with him.  So instead she just nodded.  “Your presence on our patrols is always a welcome addition Hanar.  And Legolas, speaking of your _presence,_ it has been requested, along with mine, for the evening meal tonight with Ada.”

A small groan issued from his lips before he could stop it. “And so we will go.  But now, I will let you freshen up.  Meet me for lunch? We will have need of all the good cheer we can muster before dinner.”

“With pleasure!” she replied truthfully, and with a genuine smile. “A picnic in the Gardens perhaps?”

“My Tinu knows me well,” he answered fondly, using the nickname he had given her as a child, “It would be foolish not to enjoy these last days of warmer weather before autumn fully descends and winter is on our doorstep, hmm? Oh, and Tauriel?  Have no fear; I’ll make certain to stop in the cellars before meeting you,” he winked at her and then took his leave. 

***

A hot bath, often times, was enough to drive away the foulest of moods, and had in fact worked wonders for Tauriel many times over.  If that wasn’t enough, then the prospect of a relaxing lunch with her brother should definitely do the trick; but this was not one of those times.  After her chat with Legolas, her terrible mood had quickly returned as she remembered just how filthy she actually was.  

After peeling off her guard’s leathers, which were caked with mud, blood and the Valar only knew what else, she was finally able to sluice away more than a week’s worth of dirt and spider remains from herself; it was everywhere...her face, her arms… _her hair._ She let her thoughts drift as she washed, and her gaze fell to her soul mark as it often did.  She stared at the thick, black runes, knowing no more what they said now than on the day they had blazed into existence on her bicep. 

She had been able to keep it hidden from all save her brother since she had awoken that morning more than seventy years ago and found the mark burning itself into her arm. In fact, it had remained her secret alone, until she had been present when Legolas had received one that was suspiciously similar just 15 years later.  That had been an interesting night…

They had been in the wine cellars alone, late into the evening, sharing a bottle as was their custom after a grueling training session or particularly long patrol in the forest.  Tauriel knew something was amiss the moment Legolas cried out in pain, and when he grabbed for his left arm, she knew exactly what was happening.  Seeing as Legolas was well over a thousand years old, to say he was surprised to receive a soul mark, would be an understatement.  Of course, that shock was nothing when compared with the realization that it wasn’t an Elven mark which had developed.  She thought he looked about to be sick and indeed, when she had admitted the truth of her own mark and showed it to him in commiseration, he’d almost fainted!  She had been concerned enough to suggest he see a healer; but he had refused of course, blaming his “dizziness” on the strong wine they had been imbibing.  Instead, the two spent the rest of that night (and many nights since) discussing what their marks might mean.  He also had no real idea as to which race their marks belonged; or if he did, he never said. 

After the initial disquiet over Legolas’ mark had subsided, they agreed to confide only in one another, deciding not even to tell their father.  If the King were to learn of their marks, there was no guessing how he might react.   

***

Through her father’s increasingly xenophobic decrees (as Tauriel saw them) the Elves of the Greenwood had retreated so far into their forest that to some folk, she was certain they must have become myth by now.  This corner of Arda was already sparsely populated at best, so their retreat into the sanctuary of the forest and subsequent absence from the world at large had not gone unnoticed.   Her people still traded with the race of Men of course, specifically those of Laketown to the east; but the Dwarves of Erebor were long gone, having lost their home to the devastation of the Great Wyrm, who to this day was still holed up in the Mountain, hoarding over their great wealth.   None of that race or any other, to her knowledge, had entered the Greenwood proper in many long years. 

Her thoughts then naturally turned to the day when the Mountain Kingdom and the City of Dale had burned, more than a hundred and eighty years ago now…

She, along with the Guard, had been ordered to see to the protection of the realm while her father and brother had ridden out with the army to the aid of the Dwarves and Men.   She had been able to see the great glow and smell the burning of the fires on the mountainside from atop her people’s platforms in the canopy.  When the army had returned, whole and much sooner than expected, she was more than relieved and yet surprised.  Immediately upon their homecoming, her father had sequestered himself in his rooms and when, after a full week had passed and he still had not emerged,  she grew concerned.   Dragon fire was not something her father took lightly; not since suffering a series of terribly devastating wounds from one he had fought in the North.  The most grievous of which was the loss of her mother, Thranduil’s Queen and One, to the devastating flames. 

And so it had been Legolas to tell her of what had transpired that fateful day on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain.  In quiet undertones he explained how they had arrived just in time to watch as a Fire Drake who had come south on hearing rumor of the Dwarves’ great treasure hoard, entered and laid claim to the stronghold; and of how afterwards, they learned that Lord Girion of Dale had fallen while attempting and failing to slay the beast. 

Legolas also explained why they had returned home so soon and unscathed.  King Thror had refused to listen to his Councilors and had insisted Thranduil send in his soldiers in an attempt to roust the dragon. When their father refused, knowing firsthand how futile an effort it would be to try and forcibly remove an entrenched, fire breathing dragon, and offering aid and sanctuary instead, Thror had gone into a great rage, cursing the Elf King and all his kin for their selfishness.  He vowed never again to have any dealings with Elves and Thranduil had immediately turned his army around and come home. 

The Royal Guard had been instructed to allow the Dwarves of Erebor unimpeded travel through the forest, if such was their desire; _but none ever came._   And when her father finally emerged from his self-imposed seclusion, he was an altogether different being. Colder, harder, and if possible, more determined than ever to isolate his Kingdom from the rest of the world.

Tauriel sighed as she dragged her tired body from the now tepid bath to dress and meet her brother.  With how insular their father had become, how were she and Legolas ever to learn who their Ones were?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Kili next chapter :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated and edited!! Enjoy :)

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Kili knew the instant his feet touched the soil of Mirkwood Forest.  He had learned some of what to expect from his mark during his meeting with Lord Elrond, but that in no way translated to being prepared for it once it actually started to happen; yet here he was, at the westernmost border of the forest, the silver writing on his left arm… _tingling_. 

Weeks ago, in Rivendell, Lord Elrond explained that when Elves were in the presence of their One, they experienced what he called “a great shiver”; emanating from the mark, the chill would radiate throughout their bodies. But there were other, less obvious indicators that might appear as an Elf drew closer in proximity to their One, as well.  The Elf Lord thought it relatively safe to assume that since Kili bore an Elven mark, his body would likely respond in similar fashion.  Elrond advised that for the sensation to solidify into an everlasting bond, one had only to embrace the truth in their heart and have the courage to acknowledge the other half of their soul.  

He had truly hoped that the Elf Lord would be mistaken in his next summation, however, and that the mark would bond him to a being residing somewhere such as the Golden Wood of Lorien, or perhaps the Grey Havens which were so close to his home in the Erid Luin or maybe even from some long forgotten Elven realm from ages passed.  But no, Elrond had been quite clear when he had imparted to Kili that his best chance for finding his One would be amongst King Thranduil’s folk.  Something about the writing on his arm seemed to indicate this to Lord Elrond, for he looked long upon it; but when asked, the Elf Lord flatly refused to tell Kili what the writing said, stating only that should he meet his One, all would be revealed.  

 “Kee? What’s wrong?” Fili asked quietly so the others wouldn’t overhear.  He could tell that something was wrong immediately, because Kili had stopped dead in his tracks the second the sensation had begun. 

“ _It’s tingling_ ,” was the whispered reply.  Fili’s eyebrows shot up immediately, knowing exactly what his brother had meant by “it”.  He placed a reassuring hand on Kili’s shoulder. 

“Should you tell Uncle?” he asked, looking like that was the _last_ thing he thought Kili should do. 

“Lord Elrond said this might happen and also that it would get cold to the touch, so it’s not wholly unexpected.  He said that I would shiver or something but that hasn’t happened yet, so…I think we should wait for something more before… _worrying_  Uncle.” 

“So we wait then,” Fili nodded his agreement. 

“I think that’d be best, considering where we are, no?” and swept his arm in a wide arc, indicating the surrounding forest.  His uncle may have said that they would be in this together, but would he feel the same once he learned his worst fears were realized?  That Kili’s One was undeniably a Wood Elf?   He hadn’t the heart to discuss what Lord Elrond had told him with his uncle and Thorin hadn’t pressed him.  Now though…well, he could keep his uncle in the dark for a little longer; after all, what Thorin didn’t know, he couldn’t yell at Kili for. 

***

As they slowly made their way through the woods, it became harder and harder to stay on the stone path.  It was broken in many places and more than once, the Company got so turned around they had to work hard to double back and find the path again.  Delays were to be expected, of course, but they were on a tight timetable, so any were unwelcome.  

It was a little while before Kili noticed his companions growing somewhat sluggish and befuddled.  His first thought was that it was due to the depressing nature of their surroundings.  This forest did feel just as their burglar, Bilbo, had said on arrival… _sick_.  Kili could feel it, _almost taste it,_ on the very air he breathed.  After a bit though, it had become obvious to him that something was truly wrong. The others had started to act like they were drunk, as though they had lingered too long in their cups or had inhaled too much of their traveling companion, the Grey Wizard’s, special blend of pipe weed.  Whatever it was that was affecting the Company; it appeared that Kili was, at least for the moment, blessedly immune.  He wondered more than once if his mark, the prickling feeling of which was growing progressively stronger, had anything to do with that.  The situation was puzzling to him and he thought back often to his conversation with the Elf Lord.    

Elrond had been willing to entertain most of the questions Kili had asked him, but had made it clear he had no exact reference to go by, as he had never before witnessed an Elven mark on a Dwarrow.  What he spoke of to Kili, he prefaced with the admission that for all he knew, Kili’s situation was unprecedented.  Kili knew better, thinking of course to his cousin Gimli's mark, but he felt that that wasn't his information to share, so he didn't.  

While there were a few examples of Elves and Men sharing soul marks throughout the history of Middle Earth, Lord Elrond felt that because Kili was of the Khazad, his experience would undoubtedly differ in some ways from that of a Man or an Elf and he was apprehensive to give Kili what might perhaps be false information.   Apart from the sensations that he might feel upon encountering his One, Lord Elrond could not say for certain what lasting effects there would be.  He mentioned that of the Men who were bonded to Elves, many often lived longer and tended to have greater strength of body than their contemporaries did.  He went on to say that an Elf who had claimed their other half was bonded to the other’s life force, living only as long as their One.  For Elves, this was usually not an issue, as they are essentially immortal, but enough had died in battle to prove the truth.  An Elf who lost their One to death knew the moment it happened and most times immediately lost their own will to live, fading from grief usually not long after.  Kili remembered feeling sick to his stomach that he would cause someone that kind of pain one day; for he was mortal after all and would undoubtedly make his way to the Halls of Waiting someday... 

Rousing him from his thoughts, someone had begun to sing, and initially, upon recognizing the bawdy drinking songs of his homeland, Kili had gladly joined in, searching for anything in the gloom of their current situation that might brighten their spirits.  But then everything had quickly devolved into all out confusion as the others seemed to no longer remember the words to the song, or where they were or even what they were doing.  All at once, everyone began arguing and Kili, for the first time, found himself worried about the racket he was certain they were making.  He tried to quiet them but ended up getting shoved by Dwalin into Ori, and the two hit the forest floor in a heap just as his uncle called loudly for all to halt and be quiet. 

***

From his position on the ground, Kili watched in horror as three giant, house sized spiders...the biggest he had ever seen in his life ( _Mahal who was he kidding?! They were bigger than_ _even his worst nightmares could conjure!_ ), started to descend silently from the canopy above. He attempted to cry out but fear paralyzed him and the noise caught in his throat.  He watched helplessly as one of the monsters landed on and began to attack Bombur.  That was when the rest of the Company finally seemed to stir from whatever stupor they were in and went on the defensive. 

Kili jumped up and grabbed for his bow, immediately firing off arrow after arrow into the thick, black hides of the spiders.  When he had spent his arrows, he grabbed for his sword and began hacking away at whatever black limbs presented themselves to his blade.  As the filthy creatures kept pouring from the trees, more than once he was knocked back or away; but always he rushed right back into the fray.  One particularly wily beast attempted to flee from his wrath, but after sparing a glance for his brother and his uncle and seeing they were unharmed, he gave chase.   

***

After a few moments, Kili realized he had run far enough where the shouts of his companions had become distant; he could no longer distinguish exactly what was being said, or by whom.  He could no longer see his quarry either, so he stopped where he was to get his bearings.  

He turned a full circle, and realized with some trepidation that he was completely alone.  Kili made to head back towards the shouts he could still hear but was immediately beset upon from above as a spider dropped down onto him, crushing him to the ground.  He just barely managed to get his sword up to block the pincers that were heading straight for his head. 

All at once, his body turned ice cold and a furious energy exploded within him!  He found he suddenly had the strength to throw the spider off of himself, but in the process of doing so, his blade had gotten caught in the filth’s mandible and as the spider was flung away, so was his only weapon.  _Mahal_ _! Now what?!_

Kili jumped up and stood for a moment, breathing heavily, wondering at what was happening to him.  He felt like he had had a week’s rest and could run for miles wearing full armor and carrying battle axes!  The freezing sensation coursing through his blood was far from unpleasant and it filled his heart with a sense of peace and… _love_.  Something from deep in his soul spoke to him _“All will be well…help is coming!”_

He had heard the words clear as day but wasn’t given long to dwell on them before the first spider was on him again, which was quickly joined by a second, larger one.  Kili wasn’t sure if his new found strength would be enough to survive two of the monsters at once without a proper weapon, or if the promised help would reach him in time, but he wasn’t going down without a fight; _he was of the Line of Durin, and no easy meat!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will help reach our intrepid Dwarven hero in time? Oh c'mon...of course it will!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...back to Tauriel :)

When Tauriel arrived in the Gardens, she was pleased to see that Legolas was already there.  He was sitting on a blanket that he had set out and was preparing two plates of food from a basket on the ground next to him.  Her brother had been true to his word and two goblets, filled with a deep red wine were waiting for them to enjoy.  She took a seat next to him on the blanket and stretched her legs out in front of her, resting back on her elbows.   He handed her a glass and they clinked them together.

“To family,” Legolas said simply, smiling at his sister. 

“I’ll drink to that.  Although today I might need extra incentive,” she replied dryly, with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, thinking of her earlier audience with their father. 

“Well then let’s just drink to distraction!” Legolas offered conspiratorially.  She laughed at him, but agreed and they brought their glasses together again.  They sat quietly then for a while as they ate, relishing the ever easy silence between them; simply not needing words. 

***

After they enjoyed the repast that Legolas had procured for them, and had refreshed their glasses, they began to formulate a strategy for approaching their father and the Council after their next patrol. As the wine flowed, the idea was put forth that perhaps Legolas should attempt to be the irascible one this time and that Tauriel could play the voice of reason.  This seemed to amuse her brother profusely, as apparently he was under the impression this was outside of her purview. 

“You can stop giggling like a maid now, Hanar. I _can_ keep a lid on myself when I must, as you are well aware; I just don’t often _choose_ to do so,” she said with mock dismissiveness.

“Truer words were never spoken Tinu,” he replied with a smirk, his voice still tinged with humor.

They talked for quite a while; in fact, they conversed until after the third and final bottle Legolas had requisitioned for them from the cellars was empty.  Tauriel lined it up with the other two already lying empty on the blanket as she and Legolas shared a guilty look and a chuckle.  She noted that her brother’s smiling face held a slight flush, indicating that he was feeling the effects of the wine and she imagined she appeared similarly. She laid back on the blanket to look up at the sky which was just changing to the golden and azure hues of mid-afternoon.  The darker blues and purple tints of evening, which always showcased her beloved stars so majestically, would not arrive for a while longer yet.  Legolas lay down next to her and laced his fingers with hers.  She heard him whisper “We’ll find a way to get through to Ada…I promise.” Comforted by the gesture they always used to quietly support each other, she squeezed his hand and then allowed the pleasant buzz of the wine to roll over her. She felt her eyes close as she drifted into a light sleep. 

***

Tauriel didn’t know how long she had dozed for, but the light was beginning to fade in the Gardens when a slight prickling sensation on her upper left arm had her immediately awake and bolting up off the ground, waking her brother who was still beside her, in the process. 

“Tauriel?” he asked wide eyed, sincere concern evident in his voice. 

“Legolas! My soul mark!  It…it’s tingling! _Valar_ , it feels like tiny shooting stars are striking my arm!” she said, fear coloring her voice as she rubbed the spot on her arm where her mark lay under her clothing.   _It didn’t hurt exactly, but…_

“Alright, calm down.  Calm down Nethig!  Perhaps you slept on your arm the wrong way. Show me…” he said, grasping her shoulders and forcing her to look him straight in the eye in order to steady her. 

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she eased out of her green top coat with Legolas’ help.  She pulled up the sleeve of her under tunic, and saw that the black runes were starting to pulse faintly red; each time she felt a spark, the mark glowed.   _It seemed to have the rhythm of a heartbeat…_

“Hanar, it’s never done this before!  What does it mean?” she asked him wide eyed and not a little fearful. 

Legolas examined her arm carefully for a long moment before looking back at her with an almost reverent expression. “I cannot be certain,” he said calmly, “but if ours were Elvish marks? I would advise you to prepare to shiver...”  She swallowed at the implication of the statement he had just made. 

***

As the two hastily made their way back into the palace, questions of what might be causing the sensations to Tauriel’s mark swirling through their heads, they were met by a guardsman running towards them, who had a rather harried expression on his face.

“Captain! Highness! I have been searching for you both!”

“Lieutenant Sadron?”

"Captain, we have just had word that there are intruders on the forest path.  The perimeter scouts are reporting that a small group of travelers entered the Wood before dawn this morning and are making their way from the Western Gate.  I have already sent word for an escort party to be assembled and sent out to intercept them. Last report had them at just over ten miles from the palace.”

"Travelers? Not a raiding party?” inquired Tauriel as they turned towards the armory, already mentally readying herself for battle. 

“No Captain, the scouts are reporting the interlopers are _Naugrim_.”

Tauriel stopped short as her stomach flipped uneasily at this revelation.

“Has our father been made aware of this?” asked Legolas, casting a sideways glance to his sister. 

“No Highness.  I had been attempting to locate the Captain and yourself before reporting to the King.”    

“Thank you Lieutenant. The Captain and I shall be among the intercepting party,” Legolas said commandingly.  “Sadron, please have word sent to our father that we will be unable to honor his invitation to dine with him this evening, and perhaps advise him what is happening in his Wood, yes?” Then, looking to his sister and offering her his arm, “Tauriel, shall we?”

When Sadron had hurried off to do as he had been tasked, Tauriel and Legolas shared a fearful glance.  They didn’t say anything.  They didn’t need to; they were both thinking the same thing.  Did their strange marks really belong to the _Gonnhirrim_?

***

When they reached the armory, the entire room was in an uproar.  Elves were running every which way in an attempt to ready themselves for the sortie.  Despite her swirling emotions, Tauriel, ever the consummate professional, immediately called the room to order and addressed her guardsmen, shoving her fears away for the time being.

“We have been advised that a small party of Dwarrow have entered the Forest through the Western Gate and are currently traveling along the footpath.  While most likely they are tradesmen traveling to their kin in the Iron Hills, our mission is to detain them and learn their purpose for travel through our lands.   They should pose no threat to us with their small number which means there should be no reason for needless bloodshed today.  I will be leading the sortie myself and the Prince has offered his bow and blades to our service as well.” Everyone nodded their approval and their understanding of the situation and continued preparing to set out, albeit in a much more orderly fashion now they were in the presence of their Captain and Prince.  

Tauriel and Legolas followed suit and were quickly dressed in their forest armor, weapons strapped securely in their proper places.  Just because the Dwarves didn’t appear to be a threat, didn’t mean they were not or that they wouldn’t run into something else that was. 

Before rejoining the others, Legolas pulled Tauriel aside, placing both hands on her shoulders, which he took note were shaking slightly.  “Will you be alright Nethig?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers. 

“I’m nervous to be honest,” she replied softly. “The sensation has been growing stronger… yet, it is not painful as I had at first feared it would be. In fact, it feels oddly… _reassuring_. However, it…it is affecting me…I almost feel…” but she stopped short, bowing her head into his shoulder. How could she explain? How could she tell her brother that she felt like something was pulling at her heart?  That she felt somehow she was desperately _needed_ ; that inside of her was growing an insatiable instinct to protect? Indeed, the feeling became so strong that she fisted her hands at her sides to tamp down the urge to grab for her knives and run immediately for the forest gate. 

Legolas saw this and considered her for a moment before speaking. “Stay close to me out there.  We have no idea what will happen as we get closer and I will take no chances with your safety Tinu.  Do you understand me?” He lifted her face to his and his eyes were soft and filled with meaning as Tauriel was reminded that at least to her brother, she was indeed most precious.  She smiled softly and nodded her assent as he pulled her in for a hug and kissed her forehead. “Together,” he murmured.  “Together,” she agreed. 

***

As they filed out into the forest, Tauriel issued commands that half their group would head southwest and circle up behind the intruders who were traveling east and the other half would cut a path straight to them and stop their forward progress. Once all understood their mission, they dispersed into the canopy, all but invisible due to the strategically crafted, cleverly camouflaged armor they all wore. 

As she ghosted through the treetops, Tauriel let her senses flood out around her, listening to the trees, the wind; anything that could tell her of what was happening around them in the forest.  She stifled a gasp when she discerned a new whisper amongst the sounds of nature already familiar to her. It was a deep, slow, solid sounding murmur, utterly different from the soft and flowing voices of the trees and winds or the quick paced flutterings of the wildlife. 

Before she had time to process this new sense, her attention was brought back to the task at hand by the telling screeches of spiders in the area. She could also hear shouts and yells in deep guttural voices, although it was in a language she had never heard before.  It appeared to Tauriel that whatever the spiders were attacking weren’t easy prey.    

All of a sudden, she felt a raging heat flood her body.  The feeling was so powerful she almost fell from the limb she was running across, which was more than fifty feet from the ground!  She dismounted from the tree as quickly as she could to gather herself before continuing on and was astounded to find she was filled with a ferocious, flaming energy, as if she could face and best an entire hoard of spiders on her own! She surprised herself by laughing at the thought of how her blades would _sing_ with the effort! Tauriel had been a warrior for many long years now, but never in more than six centuries had she felt such an overwhelming need to join in battle; to feel the joy of yelling out a war cry! She took a few deep, cleansing breaths and allowed this new sensation to overtake her. That was when she heard it…

It was not one of her guardsmen who had spoken, nor had it been Legolas; they had already run past her.  No; it had come from deep down in her very being, seeming to say _“Hurry! You are needed!”_   She was shocked to stillness, supporting herself on the nearest tree, her heart jumping into her throat as she silently willed a reply to whatever force was calling out to her… _Hold on!_ _I am coming!_

In a moment, she had readied her bow and leapt back into the pursuit and Valar help anything that got in her way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise...I swear...next chapter is the ONE :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised :)

Tauriel had arrived in the clearing just after Legolas and her guardsmen had corralled the party of trespassers. Upon taking in the scene of carnage around her, it looked as though the travelers had just finished off the last of the spiders that had attacked them, and now her brother had one of the Dwarves (for indeed she could see now for truth they were Naugrim) at arrow point.  She gave that little attention as she could feel her need to fight still at a fever pitch; as if that which she sought was still not found.  From a little ways to the north Tauriel heard a strangled cry and, sharing a quick, knowing look with Legolas, immediately took off in that direction. 

Tauriel’s blood was truly boiling now; the need to protect and defend at any cost taking over all sense of reason.  As she ran, she spied several spiders pacing her on both sides.  She loosed arrow after arrow as she hurtled along, but they continued to rush her.  As they caught up to her, she found willing flesh for her blades.  She never slowed; alternately shooting and slashing the whole way, heading directly towards the yelling and scuffling she could hear clearly now.  She was fury personified and felled anything that dared challenge her.

Just a bit ahead of her, in a low stream bed, she could see a dark haired Dwarf fighting off a rather large spider.  She gasped as she realized he had no weapon!   But Tauriel could tell in a moment… _he_ was a weapon in his own right.  The way he moved!  _By the Valar he was impressive!_ She had never seen any but an Elf move the way he did. 

With a leap and a bound, she was back up into the trees, and had just enough time to jump down onto the back of one of the beasts that must have thought it could surprise her.  As forcefully as she could manage, she stabbed one of her knives through its thick, deformed head and then proceeded to ride the carcass down the side of the ravine, using forward momentum and her bow to send a few more to their accursed maker as she sailed past. 

She released her final arrow, directly into the eye of the beast the Dwarf was fighting with, killing it instantly, which made him leap to get out of the way.   As she turned to fend off more of the foul creatures, she heard him yell out for a weapon.  Her heart almost broke in half as she saw an even larger spider on top of him on the ground and immediately wished to comply with his plea, but there wasn’t time or a method, to safely get a weapon to him.  Instead, she wrenched free her closest knife from its most recent victim and flung it with everything she had at the black devil that was trying to kill the Dwarf, praying to any of the Valar that would listen to let her aim be true…

***

Kili fought off the spiders as best he could. His new found strength did not falter, but the monsters were formidable enemies, and without his sword, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Out of nowhere, from behind him, he heard the telltale whir of an arrow as it flew within inches of his head. He stared wide eyed as he watched it firmly embed itself in one of the many disgusting eyes of the beast he was fighting off.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kili saw a brilliant flash of red in the surrounding shadows but had been forced to duck quickly to get out of the way of the beast that had fallen dead at his feet with a sickening thud.  He turned to see who had loosed the arrow and thought his heart would explode in his chest. 

Kili found himself utterly frozen to the spot as a beautiful Elf maiden, flame haired and garbed in green and brown armor, came sailing towards him on the back of a dead spider as it slid down the side of the shallow ravine he was standing in.  Her long, flowing, red hair swirled around her as she wielded the most impossibly elegant, bronze colored, dual blades with skill such as Kili had never witnessed before.  She was dispatching spiders left and right with seeming ease and her face was bright with the excitement of the effort.  _She fought as though she were on fire!_

Completely lost in the moment, another, larger spider took advantage of his inattention.  It came at him from behind and before he knew it, he was once again on his back, fighting for his life against one of the filthy black beasts.  He called out to the Elleth for a weapon, but instead of providing one, she freed one of her beautiful, long knives from the head of her most recent kill and flung it with all her considerable strength at the spider that had knocked Kili to the ground.  He was just able to push it away before its dead weight would have fallen onto and immobilized him.  Immediately, he pushed himself up off the ground and stared wide eyed at the Elf maiden; who was now breathing deep and staring at him in return.  The cold energy was pulsing madly all through his body now and all he could think was “ _Mahal…please let it be her…”_

 

***

When it was over, Tauriel stood there panting, her fight instinct calmed for the moment, but the heat… _the delicious heat_ …was still there.  She stared at the Dwarf, seeing him truly for the first time.  He was quite young looking and she saw that he was watching her with the most sparklingly handsome dark eyes she had ever beheld.  There was a very attractive pink tint to his cheeks, which she assumed was earned from the exertions of fending off the spiders, peeking out from beneath the barest scruff of a beard.   He was dressed in rough travel leathers and covered from tousled hair to heavily booted feet, in spider silk; which oddly seemed to contribute to the heady effect his presence seemed to be having on her. 

On his face, Tauriel saw an expression of utter awe that she hoped she had been able to school from her own. Her body was absolutely humming with hot energy and she knew in that moment that this was _him_.  This was her other half.  The true match to her soul; crafted by the Valar just for _her_.  All of her fears fell away in that instant.  She knew him.  She felt she had always known him.  Deep in her heart she could feel something attaching itself to this dark Dwarf and it took all of her effort to fight the overwhelming urge to fall to her knees in front of him and simply hold him tight.  Instead, as slowly as she could manage, she approached him …

***

Kili studied the Elf maiden as she came nearer him, and could not deny the pull he felt.  She was beautiful and powerful ( _and dangerous_ ) to be sure, with bright emerald eyes that in an instant, spoke volumes to him. He was certain now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Elleth in front of him, who had saved his life with her furious blades and arrows, was _his_ ; and his alone.  She was truly a gift from Mahal himself, sent to him in a moment of terrible need. 

He remembered being told that he would need to have courage to admit what was in his heart in order to cement his bond with his One.  Looking at the vision in front of him, he could imagine admitting to anything as long as it kept her in his presence forever.  He stepped forward to meet her halfway, desperately fighting the urge to run to her instead…

***

They stood before each other, wide eyed and wondering for a moment, before Tauriel spoke.

“Long have I waited for you…” she began quietly, her eyes searching his, hand stretching out tentatively, her hot blood roaring in her ears.

“Long have I searched my Lady…” was the soft reply as he reached out towards her as well. 

Their hands were close now, _almost touching_ …and as they finally met, _as ice met fire_ , a beautiful, white light shone forth and seemed to envelope them in peace and warmth. Slowly, they laced their hands together and looked on each other in wonder, the hint of a smile on each of their faces.  Tauriel let out a breath she had not known she was holding in. 

***

Kili gasped as their hands finally connected; as his skin touched hers.  He felt a sort of… _completeness_ …flood through him as the raging shiver that had been rampaging through his body subsided into a soothing, cooling balm that radiated out from his mark and settled in his heart.  Kili likened it to a sea calming to silver glass after a storm.  Afraid it was all a fantasy, a trick of his mind that would end the moment he moved, Kili stood stock still and just stared, holding onto the Elf’s hand as if his life depended on it.   

For her part, Tauriel was silenced not by a fear of him disappearing, or that it wasn’t real, but from the shock of how easily her body and mind seemed to accept what it saw before her. It was as though every fiber of her being had been burning for him and when they finally touched, the howling flames banked suddenly and the sensation changed to a slow and comforting river of warmth, seeping slowly from her mark to settle in the beating organ residing in her chest. She knew then, as irrational as it might be, that she would never willingly part from him.  

***

Their hands were still securely linked when reality crashed back into the pair and they could hear shouts from Kili’s companions, knowing they would be expected in the clearing or that someone would undoubtedly come looking for them. 

“Quickly…what is your name?” Tauriel asked in a low, breathy whisper.

The sound of her voice had set Kili’s stomach fluttering and he willed himself to respond to her, though it took him a moment to find his voice.  “I…I am Kili…son of Dis, and…and second heir and nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, rightful King Under the Mountain,” was his nervous and stumbling reply.  As an afterthought he added “At your service…my Lady” with a little bow. 

Tauriel was surprised by this revelation but did her best to school her features to a passable picture of calm.  She could not however, keep her lips from turning up at the corners into the barest hint of a grin at the formal nature of his introduction.

“Tauriel, daughter of King Thranduil, Lord of the Woodland Realm and Captain of the Royal Guard…at yours,” she offered, inclining her head towards him.  

“You’re a Princess!” he flashed her a truly beautiful smile “ _And_ a warrior!” She nodded, then turned slightly in hopes he wouldn’t see the blush rising on her neck and cheeks as she replied.

“Indeed.”

After another moment, their hands still seemingly unwilling to untwine, Kili gathered up enough nerve to ask “What now?”

“Now, I am afraid my guards and I must detain you and your party on the standing orders of my Lord and father,” she replied regretfully, dropping her gaze.  She knew that was not what he had been asking.   “I promise I will find a way for us to speak more, but at present, I feel that perhaps it is best to keep this… _situation_ …between ourselves.  My father is not overly fond of… _outsiders_ …Master Dwarf.” 

“Kili please, my Lady,” he said, and catching her meaning added embarrassingly “and nor is my uncle very complimentary to your King and kin if I am to be honest, Princess.” 

She had always hated her official title, but on his tongue, it came across as a caress.  “Please, Kili.  Tauriel will be…will be fine…,” she stammered, blushing harder than she was sure she had previously…. _ever_. 

Kili looked around nervously and asked “So, should you bring me back to the others now then… _Tauriel_?”

Hearing her given name fall so softly and sweetly from his lips had her heart galloping so loudly in her chest, she was certain Legolas would be able to hear it from across the glen. 

 _Legolas_ …

He was waiting for her.  He was also concerned for her, so how could she hide this from him?  She knew she wouldn’t be able to; he of all people had always seen right to the heart of her.  She raised her eyes to find Kili looking at her expectantly. 

“Yes.  Although, I must tell you…my brother, Legolas, is with the escort party.  He will know that something is amiss the moment he sees me.  I fear not that he will betray us to the others, but know that from him, I will be unable to hide this…this…” _What in the name of the Valar was “this” exactly?_

Before she could find the words, he offered “I understand.  My own brother and uncle are amongst my companions and while I am more than passible at deceiving my uncle,” he relayed with the hint of a smirk gracing his face, “my brother will undoubtedly see through any charade.  But know that I trust him with my life and have no fear for his discretion on the matter,” he added more seriously. 

“Then follow me,” said Tauriel, leading him by their still joined hands, Kili noted, back towards the clearing where her brother and guardsmen had the rest of his companions detained. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up we check in with Fili and Legolas :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with our favorite older brothers :)

Legolas would eventually admit to himself that perhaps he had been overly rude to the fierce and proud travelers that currently stood before him.  But in the heat of the moment, he did not realize that he had allowed his fears for his sister to overwhelm him and had lashed out cruelly. 

On conducting a search of their persons, Legolas had come across a miniature depicting the likeness of an obviously well put together, sturdy lad; clearly the off spring of one of the detained party.  He had arrogantly and loudly likened the image to that of a “Goblin mutant”; earning himself not a few grumbles and venomous looks.

Now, as he looked on while Tauriel’s guardsmen further disarmed their captives, one of whom he noted was rather inordinately well-armed with blades and axes of all sizes and makes secreted about his person, he began to grow nervous that his sister had not yet rejoined them in the clearing.  He was on the verge of investigating when he spotted her leading a rather tall Dwarf (at least compared to his companions Legolas thought) towards him. 

Legolas’ eyes immediately fell to their enjoined hands, and his jaw almost dropped.  Tauriel met his gaze in that moment and on seeing his reaction, immediately seemed to remember herself and let go of the Dwarf’s hand, placing hers on his shoulder instead.  Her eyes begged Legolas to remain silent on the matter and he conveyed his assurances to her with a quick nod, trying his best to impart the message to her that they would speak later on the subject.  _So it was true then…_ He was surprised to find he was not upset by this new knowledge.  At least they knew _something_ now…

***

As his brother was led into line next to him, Fili could not fail to notice the wild look in Kili’s eyes…or the white knuckled grip the red headed wood elf had on his brother’s shoulder.  He was overjoyed to see Kili whole, after having been separated during the skirmish, but when the Elf finally relinquished her hold on him, Fili didn’t miss the flash of pained sadness on his brother’s face or the shared look between the two that spoke volumes.  It had made his breath catch in his throat.  _This had to have something to do with Kili’s mark…_

Stunned to silence for the moment, Fili allowed himself to be turned around and lead single file through the forest; his brother, who was last in line, walking behind him. After a little while, he noticed that most of the Elves had dispersed back out into the forest around them so Fili chanced a whisper over his shoulder. “Brother?”

“Not now Fi… _later_ ,” was the quiet reply.

 _Later indeed_ thought Fili.  Who knew what later would bring?  His uncle hated Elves; King Thranduil’s folk most of all, he knew.  He glanced ahead to where his uncle walked at the front of the line, his anger clearly threatening to boil over.  Fili found himself willing a silent prayer to Mahal to see them safely through this as the party trudged on towards the looming halls of the Woodland Realm. 

***

Upon their return to the palace, Legolas noticed Sadron waiting for them at the gate. 

“Lieutenant?”

“My Prince, the King commands that the leader of the group be brought before him and the other prisoners secured in the dungeons.”

 _Prisoners._ Legolas did not like the sound of that. 

“I will see it done Sadron.  Thank you.”

The Dwarves had refused to give Legolas any information as to who they were or why they were traveling through the Greenwood.  Even with their lack of candor, it had been easy enough for Legolas to determine which of the party was the leader, however.  There was one that all the rest seemed to defer to; one who, despite being covered in spider webs, held himself almost regally so.  He walked over to the haughtiest looking Dwarf of the bunch. 

One of the tallest of the party, the Dwarf had long, dark hair lightly peppered with silver.  His beard was trimmed shorter than all the others, (except for the younger one detained by Tauriel, who’d had almost no beard to speak of), and his eyes spoke to Legolas of long suffering and deep anger.  He had also been carrying the sword Orcrist; an ancient and renowned blade forged by Legolas’ kin.  He cringed as he remembered accusing the Dwarf of stealing it.  Truly, the blade had been lost for centuries and the more likely scenario was that the Dwarf had simply found it somewhere.  Legolas felt slightly guilty for his initial interactions with them and even more so now that they were to be treated as prisoners. 

“You,” he pointed at the Dwarf. “Come with me.”

“I don’t take orders from filthy tree-shaggers, lad,” came the indignant reply. 

“You have been commanded before the King of the Woodland Realm and it is my duty to see that you arrive there safely. So whether you come willingly or under duress, know that I will see the King’s will fulfilled.”

“Well, seeing as you put it so _nicely_ , what choice do I have?  Lead the way Elfling…” spat the Dwarf.

Looking to his sister, he added “Captain, the rest have been ordered to the dungeons.” Legolas saw Tauriel’s eyes flash at that, but with the slightest tilt of his head, he counseled patience.  He and two guards then made their way towards the throne room with the summoned Dwarf in tow. 

*** 

After Thorin had been led away by the rude silver-blond Elf, Fili and the others were taken deep into the lower caverns of the palace to the dungeons.   He had surmised on the way that Kili’s Elf ( _when had he started to call her_ that _?_ ) was in charge of the group of guards and seemed to defer only to the aforementioned blond pixie. 

As they were being patted down one last time, and he had been relieved of his last hidden weapon ( _and he had thought it so cleverly secreted in the bottom hem of his coat!_ ), he was certain that he heard his brother toss a rather naughty innuendo at the Elf maiden!  Fili’s ears went red and he had fully expected her to slap Kili, but instead, she only smirked and dished back a clever reply of her own before slamming the door to the cell in his brother’s scarlet face.  Turning to walk away, the Elf missed the huge grin that flashed into place across his brother’s lips.  Fili hadn’t.  _Mahal!_   _Something is definitely going on there!_

***

After a little while, the Elves all departed and they were seemingly left to themselves, apparently to rot at the will of the King of Mirkwood.  Fili knew his brother was only one cell over, so he gathered himself at the bars of his own, and called quietly to Kili. 

“Ki…are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Brother…it’s…I don’t know…it’s amazing!” was the reply.  Fili could hear the undercurrent of joy in his brother’s quiet tone. 

“What do you mean?”

“She’s “it” Fi…she’s my _One_!”

“How can you know that already?  You only just saw her for the first time today!”

“I know! But I tell you Fi, it was like deep down, I knew.  It feels like she’s been right there with me my entire life.  My whole body reacted to her Fi! And before you ask, _no…not in that way_ …well…yes in that way too, I suppose, but…oh Fi! I…I don’t know if I can really put it into words.”

At that moment, a few guards they did not recognize appeared with food and drink for the imprisoned Dwarves.   Fili saw with great relief that among the generous provisions were tall tankards filled with what he hoped was ale.  _Perhaps Kili having a connection with one of these sprites wouldn’t be the worst thing after all._

***

After delivering the dark haired Dwarf to his father, Legolas had been dismissed from taking part in the interrogation.  He immediately sought out his sister and found her pacing in the armory, blessedly alone. 

“Nethig?”

She ran into his waiting arms and gushed. “Legolas! Valar it’s him Hanar!” Her eyes were bright and tears of what appeared to be happiness were threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks. 

“Tell me Tauriel,” he said breathlessly, drawing her by the hand to sit with him on a bench. 

“When we left on the sortie, I could…could _feel_ him…calling out to me.  I didn’t know what it was at the time, but when I came upon him and saw him fighting for his life I…I…oh Hanar, I was on _fire_! It was like I would have done anything to save him!”

He regarded her with no small amount of awe; thinking of his own, now known to be, Dwarvish soul mark. 

“Hanar, it frightened me! Truly! There was a great burning sensation that flooded through my body, making it act on instinct, independent of what my head was saying.  I abandoned all reason as I fought to save him from the spiders!  The drive was so strong Legolas…like I didn’t have a choice.  Not that it would have mattered.  I would have done nothing differently,” she finished quietly, her lips forming a small smile.

“Did you speak to him?”

“Oh yes! But only a little; I must find a way to speak with him again.”

“What did he say Tinu?”

“He gave his name as Kili and says he is one of the nephews of King Thorin Oakenshield; the Dwarf that _you_ escorted to father,” she said with some asperity. 

“I had no choice Tauriel.  You know that,” he defended himself.

“I do. I know,” she said apologetically; her eyes downcast.

Legolas digested this information for a moment, understanding better now his King’s command for a private audience with the Dwarf.  He made a mental note to cautiously glean what he could from his father regarding the interview.  _What were Thorin Oakenshield and his companions doing, traipsing through their forest?  They couldn’t mean to return to the Mountain? Surely not…_

“I took the liberty of having the kitchens send up provisions for our _prisoners_ ,” she spat the word in distaste.  “I certainly won’t let them starve on my watch.”

“No.  No, you are absolutely right. Are you alright now though Nethig?  It has been an overly exciting day and I would have you well.”

“I am quite well Hanar,” she said with a smile, her eyes glancing in the direction of where he knew the dungeon cells to be.  “Now, I am for my rooms to clean up before our King can summon me and to think on how I can assign myself guard duty of the prisoners without being obvious with my intent.”

He smiled at her then; _always his mischievous Tinu_.  “Away with you then; I wouldn’t mind being alone with my thoughts for a little while either to be truthful.”

“You and I will speak more, later Hanar…I am sure you will have more questions for me,” she said with a little smirk.  “Perhaps my Kili can shed some light on your own… _situation_ ,” she added.

With a quick squeeze of his hand and a wink, she was gone; leaving Legolas to ponder what it all meant.  

***

After the Elves had brought them that first meal, they were not left alone again.  It appeared that some sort of rotation had been worked out and a new guard replaced the current one at seemingly regular intervals.  There had not been another opportunity for Fili to question Kili further about what was happening.  There had also been no sign of Kili’s Elf maid.

Thorin had been brought back to them not long after the meal had been served and the colorful report of his meeting with the Elf King was not pleasant.  Apparently, the two had done nothing but trade insults and now the Dwarves were to be held in the dungeons indefinitely.   _Wonderful_ , he thought; although truthfully, Fili had expected no less from his quick to anger uncle. 

***

Hours later Fili found himself still sitting in a cell, alone with his thoughts.  In the dark and quiet of the dungeon, he had let his thoughts drift…

Kili had found his _One_.  What must that be like he wondered? Many times over the past 17 years he had looked to his own soul mark, having almost no idea what it meant.  The little song bird had arrived out of nowhere one morning when he woke up to find it suddenly, just there, on his arm.   He had known of his brother’s mark almost since the day he had been born and they had both learned of their cousin Gimli’s Elven mark quite by accident some years ago now.  But Fili was the only Dwarf he knew of that bore a human mark. 

His mother had not been able to tell him anything, having had a proper Dwarven mark herself, and not being at all familiar with the ways of humans.  His uncle, who was extensively traveled, would only tell him that among humans, to have a mark was extremely rare.  Supposedly it represented their spirit animal; the force that guided them throughout their lives.  Humans were a fickle race, he had been told; most not subscribing to the idea of a One.  And they were also short lived, he knew, not often living past their eighth decade.  He himself was already past his eightieth year…what did that mean? These thoughts and more chased themselves around his head as he drifted off to sleep. 

Once Fili woke in the morning, he would credit his vivid dreams of a beautiful blond maiden, singing to a little Thrush that was flittering around her as she bustled about a tiny kitchen, to all of the excitement of the previous day, and wishful thinking.  He had no way of knowing that his One would be just as he had dreamed her and that they would meet … _soon_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to Laketown my Figrid friends :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions...and answers...and more questions...

After speaking with her brother in the armory, Tauriel had made her way to her chambers as quickly as she could, trying not to seem as though she were running.  Once there, latch firmly in place on the door, she immediately stripped off her guard leathers and took in the sight of her soul mark; thinking on all that had happened in the forest. 

The intense burning had ceased the moment her hand had met his… _Kili’s_ …and yet, the gentle, comforting warmth that had overtaken her in that moment was plainly still there.  The persistent pulsing she had initially experienced emanating from her mark was also still present, but now she could see that it was accompanied by a soft glow, alternately brightening and dimming the runes of the mark, in rhythm with the cadence of the thrumming. 

She wondered at that… her initial impressions of it being similar to a heartbeat were starting to show some merit.  _At least the glow was not bright enough to be seen through her clothing_ , she thought; thankful she would still be able to hide what was happening from her father and others.  

Tauriel still had no idea what the strange runes meant however, which brought the promise she had made Kili to mind; she needed to speak with him again as soon as possible.  She idly pondered what the mark he bore might say and what he could be feeling from their bond.  Tauriel had questions for him and was certain he would have some of his own, in turn. 

As she cleaned herself up, she let her thoughts wander again, to Kili, with a smile on her face.  What were the chances?  She could not believe they had found each other!  She herself had never traveled far from the Greenwood and his people had been exiled from the Mountain over a century and a half ago.  Even before Smaug’s siege of the Mountain, their peoples had never been “friendly”.  Now?  To Tauriel’s knowledge, they had had no dealings whatsoever since that fateful day.  That they should be soul bonded to each other was one of the most improbable things she had heard of.  It felt right to her though, she realized.  In fact, it felt more than right… and she knew she wouldn’t feel this way if the Valar hadn’t _meant_ for them to be joined.  Her heart was filled with warm, effervescent happiness at the thought. 

_Now, if she could only find a way to speak with him…_

***

Once the Elven guards had returned and had taken up regular shifts, Kili had been unable to speak further with Fili about his situation with… _her_ (in truth, Kili had pointedly refused to breathe a word of this within _whispering_ range of any of the pointy-ears and Fili, for his part, had seemed to understand and had remained silent on the matter).  They had instead kept their conversation to topics such as the generous provisions they had been provided and the clean and dry, yet bleak, surroundings they currently found themselves in.  Kili had waited until he was certain he would not be overseen by anyone before he had risked removing his overcoat and leathers, lifting his under tunic to peek at his soul mark. 

Since the forest, a new sensation had begun.  He could only describe it the same way he would the feel of peppermint on the tongue; icy little bursts on his skin, right at the mark and which seemed to be keeping to some sort of rhythm.  When he was finally able to look upon his mark, he was surprised to see that the familiar silver script was shimmering; shining brighter when he would feel the prickling.  At first he thought perhaps it was matching the tempo of his heart, but the pace was just slightly different…a little faster than what he could feel in his own chest.  

 _Hmm…_  

The penetrating, soothing coolness he had experienced earlier at… _Tauriel’s_ …touch ( _Mahal, even her_ name _was beautiful!_ ), and which still had yet to dissipate, seemed to sink right into his bones, rejuvenating him.   He allowed the feeling to wash over him completely, and was overcome by how quickly it began to fill him with a deep sense of joy.  He sat down on the bench in his cell and let his mind drift as he tossed the rune stone his mother had gifted him in his hands, a small smile on his face…

It was strange; after all of the wondering, all of the questions, he felt that it finally all made sense.  All of the pieces finally fit together and he understood that as crazy and irrational as it seemed, _this was meant to be_.  He was hers and she was his; he knew it with as much certainty as he knew the sun would rise every morning and set every evening.  His grin grew even wider when he thought of how he had looked into her eyes and seen the same understanding there. 

It didn’t matter that they had only met for the first time that day like Fili was wont to reason; he _knew_ her.  He’d seen all that he’d needed to in the forest, watching her elegant form kill giant spiders with grace and confidence, and had felt even more as their souls had touched; _he was certain that was what the flash of brilliant white light had been about.  Mahal!  What would happen when he kissed her…?_

Later, on coming back to himself, Kili realized he was being serenaded by his brother’s loud snores from the next cell.  With a groan, he put his coat back on and lay on his back, trying to get comfortable for what he was now sure would be a long, sleepless night.    It didn’t matter anyway, of course; Tauriel had promised to find him and he wanted to be awake when she did. 

***

Tauriel paced in her rooms and waited, admittedly less than patiently, for the summons she was certain would come from her King; however, none came.  Eventually, her restless heart could take no more and she found herself traversing the mostly empty corridors of the palace in the relative solitude of the night. 

She had thought long on how she might speak privately with Kili, when an idea had finally formed in her head…

It had been many long years since the Woodland Realm had hosted anyone in the dungeons and consequently it had been just as many years since the members of the Guard had had to do any actual guarding of anyone.  And so it was, armed with her title of _Captain_ of the Guard, she prepared to make a “surprise inspection”; fully expecting to find something unsatisfactory (unfairly perhaps) with whoever might have charge of the cells this evening.  As long as she kept her visit short, no one would have reason to question her presence there as anything other than what she presented. 

As it so happened, she arrived at the cells just in time to see one of her guards nodding off at his post!  Here was a perfect opportunity; so perfect, she was surprised he was not wrapped in pretty paper!  _The Valar were surely smiling on her tonight…_

“Lieutenant Humiol!  Tell me I’ve not made a mistake in promoting you?” she asked slightly louder than she needed to; her tone serious and tinged with more acid than she truly felt towards the elf.   He was one of her newest recruits and had never had much experience with such monotonous tasks.   She certainly understood…but still; she would need to punish him for it. 

“C..C..Captain!  I…I..,” the Elf stuttered into full wakefulness.  “Captain, my most sincere apologies!” his eyes were downcast now and he was guiltily shifting his gaze to anything but Tauriel. 

“Be thankful it is I, Humiol, and not the Prince or you would already be suspended from your duties!  Instead, I would have you put to use the extra rest you have gotten.  You are now assigned to the next border patrol; it leaves before dawn today.”

A small groan was the only reply she received.  Border patrol was the least favorite assignment of everyone in the guard.  It took one away from friends, family and the comforts of home for weeks at a time.  She often volunteered for the assignment herself, taking more than her share of patrols; firstly as a means to remain in touch with the goings on in the forest, but also to show her people that she wouldn’t ask them to do what she herself was unwilling to. 

“You are dismissed to ready yourself for your new assignment…I will finish your post here… _this time_.  I will not be so forgiving in future.”

“Aye, Captain.” He was gone before Tauriel could think on any further admonishments. 

Not giving Humiol a second thought, she turned on her heel and began making her… _inspection_ …of the cells. 

*** 

Kili bolted upright the moment he had heard her begin to chastise her guardsman, so he was at the bars to his cell as she came into view.  _Mahal’s Great Beard!_ She was just as stunning as he remembered from their encounter earlier in the day.  His heart fluttered madly at the sight of her.

“Tauriel!” he whispered as she approached. “You came…” she flashed him a brilliant smile.

“I must admit, I was finding it quite difficult to stay away,” she said softly as she glanced around, making certain they were alone.  As she came to stand in front of him, her hands seemed to move of their own accord to where his were gripping the bars.  When they covered his, he stopped breathing for a moment.  He looked up to her wide eyed.

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve had nothing to do except sit here and think of you.  While I assure you that thoughts of you are most pleasant my Lady, I will heartily admit, it is much more enjoyable to have the pleasure of your company,” he said sincerely.  There was a hint of something more in his eyes which Tauriel did not fail to miss.  _Valar! Her ears were burning!_

“I fear I cannot stay long, but there is much we should discuss,” and then forcing herself to release his hands, she sat down on the ground and bade him do the same. 

Facing each other as they were, they each took a moment just to look on the other, both seeming to truly appreciate the strange and remarkable situation they found themselves in.  Tauriel reached for his hand again and he gladly complied. 

“Kili, what happened today…I have never felt anything like it before,” she began. “I…I know what it means, but I don’t know…what it _means_.” She looked at their joined hands almost reverently and added “I did not think to look for my One amongst the Gonnhirrim,” using her peoples honorific for the Dwarves. 

“Did you not? Surely you bear my mark? I have worn your silver brand since the day I was born. Is it not the same for you Tauriel?” he asked earnestly. 

“Indeed, I have a mark, but it is not in a language that I recognize.”

Kili was thoughtful for a moment.  “May I see it?” he asked with a shy smile.

“Of course,” she answered, shrugging out of her green top coat.  She gave another sweeping glance to their surroundings before leaning in closer and lifting the sleeve of her tunic for him.  She gasped as his large, calloused hands delicately encircled her arm as he examined the glowing runes.  He rubbed a rough thumb lightly over her skin, sending an unfamiliar shock through her body, which pooled like liquid heat in her belly. 

As Kili deferentially ran his thick fingers over her soft, velvet skin, he felt the tremor that had run through her body.  His chest tightened at the thought of what that might mean.  He did his best to keep his eyes trained on her arm so as not to betray the unequivocal yearning he was trying desperately to suppress.   

The flickering black runes on her bicep were as familiar to him as his own name.  It was Khuzdul; the ancient language of the Khazad.  _No wonder she hadn’t recognized it._   He was certain the blush on his cheeks was readily apparent at this point.  The writing on her arm was in fact the deep name he had been graced with by his mother the day he was born; the name whispered in her ear from Mahal himself.  He shuddered at the implications. 

Kili had been aware that she must carry something to name him as her One, but in all the excitement it had completely escaped him that of course it would be in the _secret_ language of his people! He was honor bound not to reveal its existence to outsiders, but he felt that under the circumstances he could not help but explain to her what it meant.   He wanted her to know…

“Tauriel, the mark on your arm…” he paused here, unsure of where to begin and glanced up to her trying his best to impart the solemnity of what he was about to tell her. “The mark you bear is my deep name.  It is written in the old and private language of my people.”  He felt her tense, but she didn’t pull away. “In the common tongue, it translates to…” and here his voice dipped even lower “to… _Durin’s Arrow_.”  Her eyes went wide at that.

“Since my birth, I have known that name and I have always tried to live up to what I know one day I must become.”  Here he became quite serious and Tauriel was taken a little aback.  “You must promise me never to reveal its meaning to any other than a Dwarf. Many…such as my uncle, or Mr. Dwalin a few cells down, would tell me I go too far in telling you what this says ” he continued, “but I would have you know since it undoubtedly marks you as…as _mine_ ,” he finished softly.  He couldn’t tell her the Khuzdul word, or about any of their language…yet; not until she was his wife… _his wife! Would that even be possible?_ Kili didn’t know…but he knew he wanted to find out.  He wanted this woman in front of him to know everything there was to know about him…to share everything that he was…the good, the bad _and_ the crazy. 

“I will certainly hold your confidences Kili and I am humbled that you trust me so willingly,” she replied fondly.  “But…what about you? You mentioned you bore a silver mark?  That is traditional among my people. May I see it?”

"Oh yes! Mine glows as yours does.  Here…” he released her arm, glad for her distraction and scrambled back out of his coat, lifting his sleeve for her in turn.  “It only started pulsing like that today…once…once we met.”

Tauriel’s slender fingers grazed his thickly muscled arm and Kili felt his mouth go dry.  Her touch was so gentle and as she leaned ever closer to him he could detect the hint of fresh lavender on her skin. It was most welcome in the stale, dry air of the dungeons. 

As Tauriel examined the silver brand, which was indeed glowing as Kili had said, she couldn’t help be astonished by what she saw.  There, on his arm, plain as the stars in the sky, was the name the high priests of her people had gifted her with at birth; it named her as belonging to the royal house.  Her brother was known as their people’s Gleaming Blade.  She, their princess, was their _Morning Star_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to cut this off where I did, but I promise we will pick back up right where we left off next chapter. This was getting longer than I expected (these two have a lot to talk about!) so I decided to split the chapter into two.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such a delay in getting this next chapter out! Life...busy...ugh... Hopefully its worth the wait :)

Legolas, who had been walking aimlessly through the palace and who initially had wanted solitude, now found himself sitting on the stairs above his sister and her Dwarf, listening to their soft conversation…out of sight of course; and he couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face. 

Tauriel, his beloved little sister, had found her _One_.  He had always hoped that one day this might happen, but now that the day had come, Legolas had plans to make.  He would do anything in his power to see Tauriel happy and whole, even if that meant protecting her from the censure of their own father.  His mood soured a little at that thought. 

Things had not always been this way for their family.  There had been laughter and love in the palace… _while their Naneth still lived…_

When Tauriel was still just an Elfling, and Legolas himself only barely past maturity, their parents had taken the army to battle dragons in the far north.  Their father had absolutely forbade his Queen from the journey initially, however their mother had insisted on accompanying him, arguing rightly that she was the most skilled healer among their people.  She had forcefully asserted that her place was with her King and Thranduil had relented in the end, having never been able to say no to his beloved; the siblings had been left behind in the care of tutors.  

When his father had returned home alone, grievously wounded and utterly broken, Legolas had been certain his father would fade.  The King had locked himself away in the royal apartments, not even allowing healers to see him, and seemed to have no inclination of ever re-emerging.  It had been Tauriel to reach their father; the little Elleth had snuck into their father’s rooms and somehow made him realize that there were still things to live for, still things to love.  It did not take long however, for the recovering Thranduil to develop an almost zealous paranoia as regards his Kingdom, and began issuing decrees and proclamations that paved the way for the Woodland Realm to shrink in upon itself. 

Instead of a happy, loving, joyous and light-filled home, it had, over time, morphed into little more than a dark and dreary military garrison; always on alert, always suspicious and always ready for a fight. 

Legolas promised himself that he would not let their father’s ideologies cause undue harm to Tauriel. 

He was about to leave the two below to their privacy, feeling slightly guilty that he was eavesdropping, but then he heard his sister mention… _him!_ Was she really going to tell this Dwarf…Kili, he reminded himself, about Legolas’ mark? _She did!_    _Wait…what was Kili’s reply just now?_ Excitedly, Legolas sat back down, nervous to hear what Kili might have to say…

*** 

It was Kili’s turn to be stunned to silence as Tauriel explained what his mark said.  The Morning Star… _oh that fit her so well!_  He thought he understood better now why Lord Elrond would not tell him what the silver and flowing words had meant.  He would had to have known who it referred to!  Kili could only guess that he was meant to find Tauriel on his own, and that the Elf Lord must have thought telling him may alter events that were yet to come.  Kili’s initial annoyance at the thought calmed though, when he asked himself if he had been told, what could he have done differently anyway?  It was not as though he could have walked up to the gates of Mirkwood Palace and announced he was there for their Princess.  _Imagine that!_ They would have locked him up, same as he was now; if they hadn’t loosed a few finely crafted arrows into him first.  No, things had happened the way they were meant to, he supposed. 

After a few moments of companionable silence, Kili spoke. “When our Company stopped in Rivendell, Lord Elrond saw my mark. We were bathing in one of the fountains and…”

“You’ve been to Imladris?  Wait…what?” she interrupted him, a sly grin forming on her lovely red lips.  “You bathed in one of the ceremonial fountains? No! All your party?” she giggled and it was like the sounds of the silver bells that were rung at the mid-winter feast in the Erid Luin. Kili thought it the loveliest sound he had ever heard and felt his ears heat as he found himself wondering what other little noises he might someday be able to draw from her… _Mahal!_

“Yes,” he answered guiltily, eyes downcast. “Looking back now I can say we were probably very rude to do so, but at the time, well, we had been on the road for weeks without a proper wash up and all that lovely clean water just looked too good to be true!”  He wouldn’t tell her how they were all completely bare-assed naked, embroiled in a grand water battle when Lord Elrond had stalked over, stern of face, to chastise them all.

“Yes, well, it was then that Elrond was able to glimpse my brand and asked to speak with me privately,” he said and then hurriedly added “It wasn’t anything that informative really.  He only told me of the early signs I might experience, should my mark hold true to Elven ways.  He made sure to tell me, however, that my best chances to find my One would be amongst your people.”   He smiled brightly at her and she returned the gesture, eyes shining. His heart lurched… _She was so beautiful…_

“You are fortunate to have had Lord Elrond’s counsel on the matter, limited as it may have seemed.  There are none here that could guide me with respect to this,” as she absently rubbed her mark, remembering Kili’s soft touch there.  “Although…” she added with some trepidation, “there is another here…like me...”

 _Another like her?_   “What do you mean?” he enquired.

“I…I know of another…with a mark like mine.”

"Now that… _is interesting_.” He paused here, but thought it only fair he continue, “Because I happen to know of another Dwarf who bears the silver script.”

“Truly? Is it one of your party? Is it your brother?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes alight with excitement.

“It is not my brother, but I _am_ sincere Tauriel.  The Dwarf I refer to is not one of our current Company; but his father is.  My cousin Gimli, son of Gloin, down the row there,” he pointed in the general direction of the other cells, “is whom I refer to.” 

“He is younger than you.” It wasn’t a question. “This Gimli…he is fifteen years younger than you?” 

“He is!  How could you know that?” he asked incredulously. 

“Kili, I think my brother gained his soul mark the day your cousin was born; the same as I was gifted with mine the day you first drew breath,” she said shyly.  “Based on when it arrived, you are…seventy-seven now?”

“I am my Lady, and now I find myself at a disadvantage; I know not how many years your beauty has graced Arda and yet, I am afraid to ask, for fear your immortality might put a great span between us.”

“I am considered quite young, by _my_ people’s reckoning.  But…your runes arrived on the morning of my six hundredth naming day,” she said cautiously; watching his face and fearing his reaction. 

 _Six hundred years! Mahal, she must see a child when she looks at me!_ Kili at first didn't know how to feel about that, but then, she had said she was still counted as young herself, and shedid _look_ quite young...so before he could worry further about any of that, he had worked something else out.  “We have the same naming day! I guess I was just born late,” he said with a wink. 

“Or…I was just born early,” she replied sweetly; her cheeks heating traitorously again.

***

Legolas was in shock.  Tauriel had said that perhaps Kili might know something that could help him; she had been right!

_Gimli._

Legolas remembered back to earlier in the day when he had confiscated the miniature portrait from one of the travelers.  The Dwarf had explained, angrily, that the likeness was of his “wee lad… _Gimli_ ”.   His heart started pounding in his chest. 

Of course, none of this meant that this person was actually Legolas’ One; but seriously…what were the odds that he wasn’t?  He and his sister were the only Elves he had ever been aware of that bore Dwarven marks…if others had had them over the centuries, they had kept such knowledge to themselves.  For all he knew, he and Tauriel could be the only ones….ever…to wear such brands. 

Legolas now felt he had his own reason for wanting to assist the Company in whatever endeavor they had planned.  Even though he had never met this Gimli, he knew that he would never forgive himself if he allowed anything to happen to boy's father. 

 _But what exactly was their plan and how were they to be freed?_   He was certain his father was not of a mind to release them based on what he had heard of Thranduil’s meeting with the Oakenshield.  He was equally certain that Tauriel would insist on following the Dwarves once they _were_ released; and in fact, he expected it from his reckless sister.  What he had not been sure of, was whether or not he would join her, or choose to run interference for her with their father and the council here at home.  But now his mind was made up... 

He listened further…

***

“Will you tell me why you are traveling through the Greenwood?” Tauriel asked Kili. 

“To find _you_ of course!” he said with a chuckle, and then more seriously, “Honestly, I am afraid to say…perhaps you would try to stop us…” came the more truthful and guarded reply. 

“At the moment, you are stuck in a cell and aren’t headed anywhere.  You lose nothing by telling me,” she said with a hint of amusement.  _But perhaps you may gain…_ She couldn’t help him unless she knew what was going on.  It took only a moment of indecision and then the story spilled from Kili’s lips in a quiet torrent. 

They were on a mission to return to their homeland to recover a great jewel he referred to as “The Arkenstone”, stating that it would confer upon his uncle the divine right to rule and lead their people.  When Tauriel brought up the fire breathing dragon that was still alive inside the Mountain, he shrugged his shoulders casually; although she could see a hint of fear in his expression.

“I’m not _too_ worried…we have a Hobbit! He’s our burglar. Can slip around all but unseen!  Real handy to have around I’ll tell you!.  Smaug will never even know we were there! Once the Arkenstone is recovered, my uncle can rally all the armies of the Khazad to wrest the filthy Wyrm from his golden bed for good; and our people will have a true home again,” he ended thoughtfully.

“You have one of the Shire folk in your Company?” she asked, her curiosity truly piqued.  “He was not found with your party.  Are you certain he is unharmed?”

At that, Kili faltered a little.  _Where was Bilbo?_   It was true…he had not seen the Burglar since before the rest of the Company had been detained and Kili felt more than slightly terrible that he had only spared a thought for that now, many hours later. 

Tauriel’s heart fluttered at the sight of his downtrodden face.  Without thinking, she reached her hand out to cup his cheek through the bars, in an attempt to comfort him.  He closed his eyes and turned his face into her touch, sliding his hand over hers to keep it in place as he kissed her palm.  Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his warm, soft lips brushing gently against her hand. 

“ _You are...so lovely…_ ” he whispered as if dreaming.

Waves of heat flooded through Tauriel and all at once she wanted to rip down the bars between them and take him into her arms and never let him go. 

Before she could speak however, a soft shuffling noise reached Tauriel’s sharply tuned ears.  She immediately pushed away from Kili, reaching for her knives which were always at the ready.  In the low torchlight, she could just make out the face of a small being, smartly dressed, with unruly, curly hair and big hairy feet, approaching them.  

“Bilbo!” Kili exclaimed softly on recognizing the new arrival.  “Bless my beard! Where have you been? Are you alright?” he asked; genuine concern plain on his face.

“Yes, yes…I’m fine, I’m fine…and I do hate to interrupt,” he said, impatiently waving Kili to silence and then, turning to Tauriel he added nervously “and I know this is very untoward of me, but, from my chosen hiding spot, I couldn’t help but overhear some of your…um…conversation.”  The Hobbit looked convincingly contrite at admitting to listening to them. 

At this confession, Tauriel saw Kili’s face turn as red as summer ripe strawberry.  She felt her own blush rise to match.  

“Yes, well, I wasn’t going to reveal myself, but once I heard Kili mention me, I figured it was safe to appear.  My Lady,” he said, offering his hand in friendship to Tauriel, “I am Bilbo Baggins of the Shire; Resident Burglar to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.” 

“It is my pleasure Sir,” Tauriel replied, taking his proffered hand.  “I am Tauriel of the Greenwood and Captain of the guardsmen that you seem so cleverly able to evade,” she added coyly. 

It was Bilbo’s turn to blush.  “Well, I do have a certain… _skill set_ …my Lady,” was the ambiguous reply.  “And, now it comes to it, that is what I came out of hiding to discuss with you both.”

Tauriel looked to Kili and saw the same confused expression that she was certain was readable on her own. 

“Kili has told you of our quest to retrieve the Arkenstone, but what he failed to mention is that we are on a very delicate timetable.  To be successful in the least, we must reach the Mountain before Durin’s Day, the last day of autumn.  Every moment we spend detained in this dungeon puts that goal further out of reach.”

Tauriel knew the day of which the Hobbit spoke was fast approaching; in fact, her people’s Feast of Starlight, which marked the end of autumn in the Greenwood, began, in earnest, tomorrow evening.  She groaned as she remembered it was one of few events where she was expected to conduct herself as Princess.  She thought of the gown she would undoubtedly have to wear; how she would be expected to smile the entire time and pretend she was enjoying herself.  She admitted she _might_ enjoy herself a little when she thought of how uncomfortable Legolas always was at these things as well.  And then there _was_ always the wine to dull the aggravation.  The wine… _the wine!_ Tauriel almost laughed out loud at the idea that had popped into her head. 

“Master Burglar, I may have a solution…since you do in fact seem to be as stealthy as Kili boasts.” She caught Kili’s eye and was taken aback that he was simply staring at her with what appeared to be utter devotion in his eyes.  This time it was he who reached for her hand and she readily laid hers into his larger one, enjoying what closeness they could. 

***

The gesture was not lost on Bilbo, who saw their linked hands and smiled.  It was true, he had overheard much of their conversation, hidden in the shadows as he’d been, and briefly thought about what Thorin was going to have to say about all this.  At the moment, however, if Kili’s unexpected, yet strong mutual attachment to the Princess of this realm could help them, then so be it.  He sat down and listened to Tauriel as she detailed the main points of her plan…

*** 

Legolas had listened until Tauriel had finished outlining her plan to get the Dwarves released from their cells, before he quietly made his retreat.  Now, striding purposefully from the dungeons to his rooms in thoughtful silence he began to formulate a strategy to see Tauriel’s plan come to fruition.  Her idea was sound, but she and Legolas would need to be on absolutely the same page when it came to their father.  He did not sleep upon his return to his rooms; or at all for what was left of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking one more chapter and I can get us to Laketown :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you patient, lovely folks who are still reading! My muse has come back and I have been busy :) We are checking in with Laketown finally! Hope its enjoyable!

It was still dark outside when Sigrid dragged herself from bed to begin the day’s tasks.  She did her best not to wake her younger sister, intending to enjoy a few moments of solitude before Tilda joined her for their chores. 

As she made her way out to their tiny kitchen, she noted that her father’s bed was empty; _off to work already_ she thought.  Her father, Bard, worked hard…too hard; but it was necessary to keep food on their table and clothes on their backs.  He was always out before sun up and usually didn’t return until well past sun down.  Sigrid did her best to find him most days at midday, in order to be certain he ate something.  Today she wouldn’t be able to though, as her Da was taking his barge to collect a consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Elves; the journey would take most of the day and Bard would not be back until later in the evening.   She made a mental note to prepare an extra hearty meal for supper, assuming her father would not take the time, or forget to eat while he was working. 

Sigrid stoked the cook fire, but left it low; the weather outside was still relatively warm for all that autumn was coming to a close, and as she watched the sun make its way above the horizon, with all the promise of a bright and shining day to come, she paused at one of the little windows of their home.  She opened it and for a moment, enjoyed the light breeze that allowed the ever present stink of the lake to drift past her nose; for once, unnoticed.   

 ***

 As she busied herself with preparing breakfast for her sister, brother and herself, she noticed the same little bird that had been fluttering around their dock for the past week.  It was perched on the railing just outside the window and shortly after she opened it, the bird flew in to rest on a corner of her work table.  As the days passed, this had become a sort of routine for them.  She would open the window, and her little friend would fly in and keep her company, perched on the table, or on one of the chairs or benches located in the main room.   At first, Sigrid had thought the animal’s behavior odd, but she had come to look forward to her little visitor. 

“And just where have you come from this morning?” she asked playfully, _as if the bird could answer._ A little warble was sent her way as reply and the bird hopped closer to her on the table.  

After she put the day’s bread into the oven to bake, she sat down to enjoy a cup of tea she had brewed, attempting to enjoy the few remaining minutes of peace she had before her siblings rolled out of bed for the day.

The moment she brought the steaming cup to her lips however, she felt a sharp pain on her upper left arm… _right where she knew her soul mark to be_.  The pain was not intense, but it took her by surprise enough whereby she almost dropped her mug.    _Her mark had never done that before_ …  She placed the cup on the table as gently as she could manage and nervously lifted the sleeve of her house dress to inspect the cause of her discomfort. 

 ***

Sigrid was astounded to see that the familiar, heavy black runes of her soul mark were now a vivid, throbbing red.  She noticed that each time the mark pulsed she felt sparks, as though someone was using a flint too close to her.  _What in the name of Arda…?_

She jerked and at her movement, her little winged friend inched even closer to her arm, as if intent on inspecting her mark himself.    Sigrid held her breath in astonishment as the creature gently nipped her, right at the brand, and after examining her with his beady black eye, seemingly satisfied by what he had discovered, immediately took flight back through the window from whence it came.    

Alternating her confused attention between the disappearing silhouette of the bird winging its way through the eastern morning sky and her arm, she wondered at what it could mean…

 ***

Sigrid didn’t often like to think of her soul brand.  She had no idea what it said, or what it meant, or even to what race it belonged.  The only thing she had known for certain was that it was not a mark of Man and, living close to Mirkwood as they did, she knew at least enough to be quite sure it wasn’t Elven either. 

It was a rare thing for a human to develop a soul mark…rarer still to be born with one already in place.  Rarest of them all, Sigrid thought ruefully, was to be born with one and have no idea to whom it could belong. 

She knew what having a mark meant, that somewhere she had a match.  Someone who would provide the perfect harmony to the melody of her life…at least that was how her father had explained it when discussing his own bond with her mother.  But Sigrid’s brand was nothing like her father’s.  Where Bard had the small image of a gull in flight, representing his tie to her mother’s spirit guide, Sigrid’s mark was made up of rough, thick, black runes. 

None besides her family had ever known of or seen her mark.  It was a point of propriety among Men that the marks were not for display.  When you were _gifted_ one, it was to be treasured privately until your One was found, and even then, only shared between the bearers.  She had questioned her father as to how he had known her mother was his One and his answer had intrigued and frightened her. 

Bard had explained, with a small smile, that it had been like an added level of intuition.   Her mother’s spirit guide had somehow found him and had illuminated his path to her mother.  When she asked what it felt like, he told her that even before they met face to face, the most beautiful music had begun in his soul; a low, gentle hymn, almost like birdsong, that he claimed never left him until the day her mother had died bringing Tilda into the world. 

Sigrid remembered that day vividly.   Her father had been absolutely despondent.  She felt certain had it not been for the fact her infant sister had survived, she and her brother Bain would have lost their father that day as well.  Somehow, he had fought back from the brink and managed to survive.  But she knew; Sigrid knew that the light in her father’s eyes would never again shine as bright as it had for her mother.  Not even for the children she knew he loved with all that was left of his heart. 

After hearing her father’s account of his own situation, she had convinced herself she was glad her mark didn’t belong to anyone she might know… _and had hoped to never meet them_.    She had seen firsthand the pain and suffering the loss of such a love as that could cause. 

Dragging herself back to the present, her thoughts were drawn again to her little visitor.  Her mother’s spirit guide had manifested itself to her father as the living embodiment of the stylized gull on his bicep.  Sigrid’s own spirit guide, assuming she did indeed have one, had never revealed itself to her, but now she wondered…would it perhaps reveal itself to her One? She stood at the open window for many minutes, her tea sitting on the work table all but forgotten, unconsciously running her hand over her mark.   

 ***

Tauriel was nervous as she and Legolas entered the grand ballroom where the Feast of Starlight was to be held; so many eyes on her at these types of events.  She hated every minute of them. 

She had dressed in a gown that had been laid out for her by her maids, but before she met her brother, she packed a satchel of what she would need for a long journey and had hidden it under her bed as they had agreed to do the night before. 

After her evening with Kili and the newly revealed and well met Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, she had sought out her brother.  He had immediately admitted to her that he had listened to much of her conversation with Kili and offered his most sincere apologies, but Tauriel had simply smiled at him.

“So you heard us discussing his cousin I assume?” she asked, eyes bright, taking his hands in her smaller pair. 

“Yes.  I did.  I also heard that his father is part of the Company.” He looked sad at that. 

“That is true,” she replied.

“Then my mind is decided.  I will accompany you when you leave with them,” he said as a matter of course. 

“I never said I was leaving…” she said, incredulous.

“Tinu…you didn’t have to.  I know that you did not tell Kili that you would follow him, even though you wanted to, for fear that your plans may not come to fruition, but I know you too well.  You will follow him and I will follow with you.  Perhaps I can do some good.  Valar knows I am wasted here.  In truth, we both are.  It has taken awhile to come to that realization, but by staying here, we are simply spinning our wheels, as the saying goes, until the evil gets too great to combat.”

Tauriel could not believe these words were coming from her brother.  She felt her eyes start to sting and immediately enveloped him in a fierce hug. 

“We must find a way to put my plan into action then, Hanar,” Tauriel said as she drew back to look in his eyes.

“I think I know a way,” he replied confidently. 

***

Her father was on his throne when they entered and rose to bow in acknowledgement to them; on his left, Lord Duath made no such gesture.  Tauriel felt Legolas tighten his grip on her hand when he saw the look she had on her face that said plainly what she thought of the older elf and his lack of cordiality.  She knew what that squeeze meant… _keep it together_ ; they could speak volumes to each other without words.    

Tauriel knew they had to be there, knew that they had to pretend that everything was normal; that there wasn’t a party of Naugrim currently relying on a Halfling to swindle the keys to their cells from a guard that had been lead down a path of celebratory inebriation by her own brother not long before.  She knew that the success of their plan rested on their ability to distract their father long enough for the Dwarves to slip away in the barrels that had been emptied for this evening’s festivities. 

“Ah…my prodigal children have survived unscathed from their adventure in the Wood,” Thranduil said dryly as he stepped down from his dais to approach them.  “I am thankful you don’t look any worse for wear.” As an afterthought, he added “Tauriel, how do our guests fare?”

“They are well cared for my Lord. However, not so comfortably that any have declared an interest in staying long term.”  She felt more than saw Legolas tense at her comment.  She knew she shouldn’t push like this, but her father’s First Counselor was eagerly listening to their entire exchange and she couldn’t help herself. 

“Indeed, I doubt they would,” Thranduil replied, thoughtfully.

"My King, if I may interrupt?" interjected Lord Duath. 

The King turned to face him and the Elf took this as permission to continue.

“As far as our _guests_ are concerned,” he spat the word coldly, “perhaps we should not content ourselves with the answers the Oakenshield has given us.  Would his company not also have information that may perhaps be valuable to us?” The words dripped with something like contempt and Tauriel did not like where this conversation was heading.

“What did you have in mind Lord Duath,” asked Legolas. 

“My Prince, that we should interrogate other members of their party.  We must glean their purpose for being on our lands.”

“I would think that clear, my friend,” Thranduil spared Legolas from replying.  “Although Thorin Oakenshield did not say so directly, I know he seeks the Mountain.”

“How can you know this my King?”

"I know, for it is what I should seek, were it our home that had been lost.” 

He looked directly at Tauriel then, and his eyes, which were almost identical to her brother’s, spoke to her; _I know what you will_ _do_ they said.  Her breath caught at the intensity of his gaze and he smirked at her.  She felt her heart lighten.  In that moment, she knew that he understood her; knew that while things might never be perfectly ideal between them, he loved her, but he was always caught between a rock and a wall it seemed. 

Thranduil loved his family, but without her mother to balance things, a gulf had opened up between he and his children.  He also had the Council and their people to answer to.  She knew that it was a balancing act that even for one as graceful as an Elf, was difficult to manage.  Not for the first time, her heart ached for what her brother would eventually face when he took their father’s place.

Before anyone could reply however, a guard burst into the hall and made his way over to Tauriel. 

“Captain, the border patrol has reported that there is a fist of Orcs making their way towards the palace up the riverbank to the east.”

Her thoughts immediately turned to Kili and the rest of the Company.  She shared a frantic look with her brother and the two sprang into action.  Before they could leave however, her father reached out and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. 

“Stay safe Meldanya Sén,” Thranduil said, looking at them both in turn.  His face was kind as he spoke and both she and Legolas bowed their heads to him in return. 

“By your leave Ada,” was Legolas quiet reply, forgoing their father’s formal title, even though they were in company.  With a last squeeze to their shoulders, he let them go; Lord Duath looked as though he would be sick. 

 ***

Once back out in the hallway, Tauriel and Legolas put their plan into action, if a little earlier than expected.  She hoped that the Dwarves had been able to get away and were now eluding the Orc pack that was no doubt sent here to track them.  She rubbed at her soul mark, feeling the familiar warm heat flooding her and knew that it would lead her back to her Kili; hopefully before any trouble befell the Company. 

***

Fili should have been scared… _no_ …by rights he should have been _terrified_.  But he wasn’t, even though he currently found himself in an empty wine barrel, hurtling down a raging river, surrounded by his closest kin, doing his utmost to stay afloat; all while simultaneously dodging arrows and swinging blades brandished by a pack of Orc filth that were currently hot on their heels. 

_Hmm…Orcs had not been part of the plan…_

He had awoken before dawn that morning to a soft melody, which he initially thought was due to some Elven magic.  It was just a soft whisper of a tune really, but it flowed gently and serenely through his mind, calming and fortifying him.  He wasn’t aware until much later, after they had dropped into the river inside their barrels, that he was the only one who could hear it.  It was still flowing gently through his mind, even now, as they careened down the river towards Laketown…in fact; it seemed to be gaining in potency, the further away from Mirkwood they traveled. 

The song in his head ( _and he thinks_ _it must be in his head since no one else has mentioned being able to hear any music_ ), has no words, but he can tell there is meaning in the soft notes.  It fills him with a sense of courage and determination.  _They will survive this!_ They have to…

He vaguely wonders to himself why he hasn’t wretched over the side of his barrel yet, as a few of the others have already.  Fili is no waterman and has no skill for watercraft, always preferring to keep his heavily booted feet firmly on solid ground.   But for some unknown reason, he finds himself exhilarated, able to keep himself upright and moving swiftly and surely through the currents, as if on instinct.   He sees the look of confusion on his brother’s face…and it must mirror his own because Fili should have lost his breakfast by now; but that is not happening and he has no fear that it will at this point.  He doesn’t know how it’s possible, but minus the stinking Orc pack that is gaining on them, this would actually be fun!  

The wind whipping his hair and mustache around, the spray of the rapids on the river dusting his face, the smell of freshness and clean things surrounding him all contribute to a feeling of being at peace with this raging body of water beneath him.  That had never… _ever_ …happened before…

 _Could it have something to do with the melody…?_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you to everyone who reads, leaves kudos and comments. I never thought that anything I wrote would be so nicely received :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Monday update...because WORK is a four letter word haha :) I needed this, this morning, so maybe you do too? Hope it's enjoyable!

Kili’s stomach was attempting to commit mutiny.   He had been fully aware of Tauriel’s plan to use the barrels from the beginning, and had wisely forgone the midday meal that had been provided by the Elves.   It had been difficult at the time, having been brought some delicious smelling samples of what the Kingdom would be enjoying that evening at their Feast of Starlight; but now, Kili was more than glad his limited self-control had persevered.   _Ugh…_

Watching the others as they wretched painfully over the sides of their respective barrels as hulking Orcs chased after them, wasn’t helping at all and Kili’s thoughts were immediately full of concern for his brother, who had not only had double rations that afternoon (having eaten Kili’s when he had refused them as well as his own), but his brother was one to get green in the face just riding on a fully secured, platform ferry crossing a calm lake. This escape run had to be killing Fili. He glanced around as best he could inside his barrel and what he saw shocked him so completely, he almost didn’t hear the Elven horn sounding out from whence they had come.

His brother was not only pink of face, his eyes were… _sparkling_ …and he was wearing an undeniable, wicked looking grin. Khazad battle cries were falling from his lips and he looked ready to take on the entire host of enemies around them with his bare hands. Kili thought he looked… _Kingly_ …like a true Son of Durin in that moment. He wondered how his brother was managing it.

He was not able to linger on this line of thought however, because besides the obvious threat the Orcs were presenting, he realized he had in fact heard an Elven horn and now ahead of them, he saw Elven guards on the rampart housing the river gate, jumping into action and the gate itself being cranked slowly shut. _NO!_

As the Company crashed into the blockade and consequently each other, Kili saw that the guards above them were engaged in heated battle with the attacking Orcs and had barely spared a glance for the Dwarves in their barrels. _The lever for the gate was right there!_ _If he could just reach it…_

He jumped out of his barrel as gracefully as he could and immediately dodged a black, dripping Orc blade that was aimed at his head. He heard his brother shout his name and turned to see Fili, _gloriously full of life, Fili_ , tossing him a pilfered weapon to assist him in his way up the parapet. He snatched the blade in midair and in one fell swoop jabbed at the monster that had attacked him and quickly turning back around, sent his brother a grateful yell. He made to head up the stairs to the lever, but before he could breach the platform, his world erupted in white-hot, debilitating, gut wrenching pain...

Kili froze; he had never in his life been in such utter agony. For a whole moment, time seemed to stand still and his heart stopped beating in his chest. All vision left his eyes; all sound left his ears. He dropped to his knees and the pain got even worse! _Mahal!_ He could barely move; he was paralyzed by the sensation. He dropped the weapon in his hands and it clattered to the stone beneath him. Kili then looked down to where the epicenter of pain seemed to be radiating from and saw to his horror a thick, mean looking, black feathered arrow protruding from just above his kneecap.  He’d had arrow wounds before; he was an archer after all, and had even actually wounded himself on occasion, too. But by Durin’s beard, this was the worst hit he had ever taken!   He was certain he was dying...

All at once his senses came back to him and from the corner of his eye, Kili saw a familiar flash of red cut into his line of sight and heard the whir of arrows as they flew past him to embed themselves into an Orc that had started to come at him from above. _She was here_ …she had come for him as she said she would… _Tauriel_ …

He watched, distracted from the pain for a moment, as she fought off several hulking Orcs with fiery determination. She was as beautiful as ever, perhaps even more so now that he had gotten to know her some. Tauriel was fearless and brave and good…not qualities his Uncle had ever allowed for the Elves. _What an injustice_ …

They made eye contact for a moment and he knew immediately he had to continue on. He couldn’t falter now…not when they were so close… _Mahal please!_ With Tauriel covering him, Kili drew on what strength he had left and then delved down even deeper to find that reserve of will he knew was there thanks to his bond with her. The cooling, rolling waves of his soul mark seeped into his bones and muscles and he felt a little lighter for it.

It was just enough to get him on his feet, enough to just grasp the lever and with all the weight he could put behind it, drag it down with him as he sank to the ground. It worked…he could hear the others cheering as his vision started to dim again; his moment of divine clarity over. He could just hear his brother calling his name and he rolled his body towards the sound. Kili didn’t realize he was going to fall over the edge of the rampart until his body landed painfully back in his barrel and the arrow snapped off jaggedly from the impact. He was unable to bite back the howl of pain… _at least they were moving again._

 ***

Tauriel raced through the forest as quickly as she could manage. She had to reach Kili and the rest of his Company as soon as possible; before the Orcs could overtake them.

On the way to their apartments to change from their Feast clothes, she and Legolas had been informed by a guardsman that in the excitement of preparations for the Feast and of learning about the Orc attack, somehow the Dwarves had managed to slip their confinement and had been spotted on the river, in empty barrels from the Woodland Realm’s own cellars no less, currently being pursued by none other than the newly arrived and attacking band of Orcs.   _Well_ , she thought, _at least they were able to free themselves from the cells._ She shook her head ruefully; _out of the cookpot but into the flames…_

She had changed as quickly as possible into her forest armor, gathering what she had packed and stowing all the weapons she could carry. Legolas had insisted they prepare ahead of time to avoid having to stop in the armory and now she could kiss him for his foresight.  

***

Tauriel burst through the tree line at the riverbank just in time to watch the largest Orc she had ever seen aim a filthy Morgul bolt at Kili, whom she had just noticed was out of his barrel and making his way to the river gate lever.  Before she could stop him, the Orc fired and her Kili was brought low; other filthy Orcs already swarming his position from above.

Her body reacted on instinct yet again, as it had before with the spiders in the forest. She fired arrow after arrow and brought down the Orcs who were the most immediate threat to her Dwarf. She then unsheathed her blades and went to work, slicing through whatever sallow flesh she could reach.

She caught Kili’s eye for a moment and as she saw the utter determination so openly displayed on his pained face, her body became even more heated and she redoubled her efforts against the Orcs. _She had to protect him!_

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him get up off the ground, amazed. _What strength he had!_ To put aside the pain of a Morgul wound was no easy feat! _He was incredible…_

Tauriel watched; a terrible, aching, tightness in her chest, as Kili managed to get the lever down and then fell to the ground again in agony. She tried her best to reach him, but Orcs leapt to challenge her left and right. By the time she looked up again, he was falling over the side of the guard post into a waiting barrel; she heard him roar in pain and watched as the arrow broke off from his leg as he landed.

Before she could follow, she was attacked again, this time from behind; her enemy making the most of her moment of inattention. She continued to dispatch Orc filth and dove back into the fracas around her trying not to let her worries for Kili overtake her. She would find him again…but she had a duty to her fellow guardsmen and her brother and would see the Orcs… _disposed of_.

What truly worried her she realized, was her soul mark; it felt like it had taken on a rather strained quality. Tauriel could still feel it pulsing, but the rhythm wasn’t as strong as it had been. Upon noticing this, she immediately prayed to the Valar to lend whatever strength she could spare to her One. To send him whatever it was that he needed in order to remain whole until she could be with him again. _She hoped that they would catch up to them quickly…_

***

Legolas stood on the riverbank watching as the Dwarves floated down stream away from him. Thorin Oakenshield had just saved his life and the act had shocked him to the point where all he could find it in himself to do at the moment was stand there and try to process it. He vaguely heard someone approaching him, but before he could react, Tauriel had thwarted his attacker and had its head between her blades, ready to send the piece of Orc filth to his accursed maker.

“Hold Nethig,” he said commandingly, but only for the Orc’s benefit. Tauriel did as she was asked, but Legolas could see the burning in her eyes. He too had seen Kili felled by the arrow.

 “Lieutenant Arphen,” he called to one of the approaching guardsmen. “Take this abomination to the palace for questioning. Let us give Lord Duath something to occupy his curiosity with, shall we?” Legolas stated bluntly. Tauriel’s grin was almost wild.

 “Report to Sadron upon your return and advise him that the Orcs have been driven to leave our lands and that the Captain and I follow in pursuit of our prisoners.”

 “By your command my Lord.”

 Arphen then led the Orc away and Legolas felt Tauriel step up next to him on the raised bank.

 “Why the hesitation? Are we not to follow Hanar?” she asked. He could tell that she was impatient to be away but was keeping herself in check for his benefit. He could feel the heat pouring off of her and knew that underneath the calm surface, she had to be boiling with the need to get to Kili.

“Oh, we will be following them,” he replied thoughtfully. “I wish to do so quietly, however. We killed many of the enemy and the Dwarves now have a decent chance, it is true, but I wish to follow just far enough behind to glean more information about our unwanted interlopers; enough to reassess what strength remains to those following our friends. We should have some idea of what to expect for when we arrive at Laketown. I also do not wish to alert them to our presence until the need arises.”

“He was struck with a Morgul bolt Legolas. We do not have long to delay. He will need healing and the sooner we can provide that, the better his chances are. You know this.” Her voice was deeply pained as she spoke; her eyes downcast.

“We will reach him in time Tinu. I promise,” he replied consolingly. “We just need to be prepared for whatever lies before us. I’ll not apologize for putting your safety above all other concerns. You cannot ask that of me.” He turned to look at her then and saw that her gaze had settled on him.

“I will do as you ask Hanar, because I love you and I trust you; but if I feel that he is in need of me, I _will_ go to him. Nothing you can say will be able to stop me. Know that what I speak is the truth Legolas,” she said with finality in her tone, her eyes cold and hard on him, daring him to contradict her.

Tauriel’s trust in him had been earned through centuries of camaraderie; forged in the fires of family and tested in all types of battles. They had relied on each other for everything; been _everything_ to each other. He would not fail her now. They needed to get to Laketown, but they needed to be ready. It was after all, just the two of them.

“Then let us stalk our prey Morning Star,” he said with a grin, choosing to address her by her High Name, as he did sometimes when her spine became reinforced with steel, as it was now.

 “After you Hanar,” she replied with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye.

 The two then lost themselves in the forest, easily slipping into the role of silent hunters, _following…watching…waiting…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And away to Laketown we go! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would Fili and Sigrid please step to the front of the stage? :)

* * *

The end of the wild run down the river found Fili strangely disappointed, which was odd, seeing as he usually hated anything to do with the water, short of bathing.  Before he could contemplate that however, his eyes found those of his little brother, now keeled over and barely able to crawl out of his barrel.  He rushed to Kili’s side and saw to his horror, a terrible arrow wound just above his knee, with the head still stuck inside. 

“Don’t move brother!” he admonished.  “We need to take a look at that,” indicating what was left of the arrow protruding from Kili’s leg.  He knew removing it might cause the wound to bleed further, and therefore called out for Oin, the Company’s aging healer. 

Waiting for the older Dwarf to stumble over, and worried for his brother, Fili surveyed where they had come ashore.   It was a rocky little beach with the forest close on either side.  There was no sign of the Orcs that had been trailing them however, and Fili took that as a good omen.  _Still best to move quickly though…_

“What is it lads?” asked Oin as he ambled over to Kili. 

“It’s nothing, just an arrow to the leg.  I’ve had worse…I’ll be fine,” Kili responded, the pain he was attempting to conceal, evident anyway. 

“Durin’s beard!  This is no mere arrow wound Kili…I’ll have to check it…” Oin argued as he began to gently rip away some of Kili’s blood soaked pant leg.  

“Do what you can …you have two minutes,” Thorin had made his way over and was cursorily examining Kili’s wound for himself over Oin’s shoulder.  “The boy said it himself, he’s had worse.  I need him up and moving.” 

Frustrated by his Uncle’s callousness, Fili got up and stalked a little further down the riverbank, under the auspices of keeping a look out for anything coming at them from behind.   As he did so, the melody that had been driven to the back of his mind, came back, as loud as ever, but the tune was somehow… _changed_.  As he walked further up the shore, it became almost solemn…sad.  He didn’t like this change…it felt… _wrong_ … and he rubbed absently at his arm, where his brand was, utterly surprised to feel it softly pulsing under his leathers.  His back went ramrod straight and he stood up taller, as if bracing for a blow.  He could feel his breathing increase, knowing what this might mean and his heart started to beat faster.  He willed it to steady. 

Before he could allow his thoughts to be commandeered by what was happening with his mark, he turned around and purposely started to walk back to his brother; all else would have to wait.  Immediately, the song in his head reverted back to the lovely melody from before and some of the tension in his body instantly dissipated; he let the sensation wash over him. 

He sat back down by Kili’s side and watched as Oin finished wrapping his leg.  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a little Thrush, flittering about the shore close to the water.  When Fili looked at it directly, the little bird appeared to meet his eye and then of all things… _nodded_ at him.  He almost chuckled at the trick the light was playing, until the bird hopped over and landed on his shoulder.  He was dumbfounded.  He was too stunned to even try and shoo it away.

Kili, who was looking up at the scene in wonder, and a little confused delirium Fili supposed, asked, words slurring slightly, “Fee, why’s there a bird on your shoulder?”

“I’m not quite certain brother,” he replied with a nervous chuckle.  “Think I should ask him?” eyeing the little thing bouncing on his arm. 

The little bird chirped at that idea, but inside his mind, Fili heard the sounds as though they were words spoken in the common tongue.  _“I have been waiting for you to speak!  I had to be certain it was you Raven King! Do you hear the song? Does it guide you?”_

Fili almost fell over backwards once he realized he could understand the Thrush.  He didn’t answer right away, glancing nervously to his brother and then around him to the others.  Kili was no longer paying attention to him; the pain of his wound clearly more excruciating than he was willingly admitting to.  Oin was arguing with his Uncle about moving Kili and the rest were still wringing out cloaks, boots and tunics from the barrel run. 

Slowly, he turned to face the little creature on his shoulder.  Softly, only loud enough for the bird to hear, he hoped, he said “I hear the song; it guides me, but where?”

“ _To_ her _of course! Certainly you’ve seen her boy?”_ was the little warbled reply.  _“You hear the song!  Are there no pretty mind pictures?”_

“You mean…my…my dream? The blond maiden in the kitchen?”

_“Of course! Who else?  I’d been told you Dwarves were right thick in the head, but I didn’t want to believe it of you, Raven King!”_

“How do you know that name?” It was his true name, his deep name; supposedly whispered by the Maker himself in the ear of his father on the day he was born. 

_“All my kind knows of you!  We have a prophecy that speaks of your coming.  The Line of Durin can speak with the Ravens after a fashion can they not? You, Raven King, can speak to all of us.  You are connected to House Girion by destiny!”_

“House Girion?” he said it a little louder than he had wanted and glanced around, fearing he may have been overheard; but none were paying him any mind.  Quieter, he added “But that line was ended the day Smaug took the Mountain!”

 _"No! You hear the song! That line still thrives!  It has been hidden for a purpose from the Darkness but will now be revealed in the Light once again! It will flourish when the Raven King and the Songbird unite!  I must leave you now…trust the bargeman!”_ And with that, the little bird took flight in the direction of Laketown. 

A few moments later, as he was trying to focus on Kili’s leg to distract himself from what had just happened, a tall figure, armed with a bow, arrow knocked and at the ready, appeared above them on a rocky outcropping.  Everyone was moving suddenly, but the man put a bolt directly into the branch Dwalin was aiming to throw at him and before Kili could get the rock in his hand thrown, another arrow shot it down. 

_Trust the bargeman…easier said than done…_

 ***

Sigrid was pacing; evening was settling in and her father still wasn’t home.  A cold fog had settled on the lake and was making the back of her neck feel clammy.    In truth, she had been on edge all day, since her mark had decided to come alive and startle her into a state of watchful unease.   It had been all she could do not to reveal what was happening to her overly curious siblings, who sometimes had no concept of personal space; young Tilda especially.  The pulsing in her mark grew stronger as the day went on and now, it was strumming in sync with her heartbeat. 

She moved over to the hearth to stir the stew that was cooking over the fire and had only just placed the spoon into the pot when her father and her brother, whom she had sent out to search for her father, burst through the door calling for her to keep a look out at the window. 

“Da?” she asked, fearful.  Tilda was by her side in an instant, clutching at her skirts. 

“Do as I say my dear!  It will be alright.”

A surge of heat flooded through her entire person at that very moment and her mark began to throb insistently.  She felt emboldened by it and did as her father asked, grabbing her carving knife off the table as she did so. 

She moved quickly to the window, blood blazing; a feeling of protectiveness infecting her entire person as waves of heat rolled over her from her soul mark.  _What was happening?_   She was almost dizzy from the feeling. 

Her father then crossed the room in two long strides, took the stairs down to their latrine and returned a moment later followed by what appeared to be a dozen or so soaking…wet… _Dwarves_.   One particularly fearsome looking specimen growled at her as he passed… _he actually growled!_ She curled her lip and sneered back at him, noticing his eyes get slightly larger at the sight.  _Try to intimidate her? No sir…_ Not with this fire raging inside her as it was!

She turned then and took in all the faces now crowded into the room around her.  One face made her heart stop in its tracks. 

It wasn’t his eyes, which she noticed just happened to be the same shade as a cloudless summer sky. It wasn’t his long, golden blond hair, with intricately woven braids keeping the bulk of his thick mane off of his rugged face.  It wasn’t the way his mustache, complete with beautifully carved beads dangling from the ends, framed his full, pink lips.  _No; certainly not!_   She told herself it was the look of distress worn on this handsome stranger as he struggled to hold up one of his comrades who appeared to be quite ill. 

When her eyes met his, something happened; something changed.  She could see the desperate plea. Maybe she could hear it even.  _Help! Please!_ The heat was a torrent now and the need to help him, comfort him, became so strong she fisted her hands in her skirt to calm herself. 

All but pushing the others out of her way, she stalked across the room to the blond Dwarf who was depositing his sick friend onto a bench by the hearth. 

“What does he need?” she asked immediately, as she placed a hand to the forehead of the sitting Dwarf.    _He was burning up!_

“My Lady, he took an Orc arrow to the leg and I fear it is getting infected,” answered the blond one, more calmly than she would have supposed.  His voice was pained though, and Sigrid could see traces of cold fear on his face.  But there was something else there, as well; a look of wonder when their eyes met again.  Her mark was all but vibrating beneath her coat now and she was certain whatever expression it was he was wearing, matched her own.  _This was him!  Her One!_

Sigrid was not about to let the realizations she was starting to come to deter her from taking care of the sick Dwarf she was now faced with however. She pushed what was happening to her to the back of her mind and got to work, using her newfound torrent of burning energy to the benefit of those around her.

***

She was absolutely beautiful.  Fili couldn’t believe she was real.  He had thought she was nothing more than a lovely dream, conjured by a lonely, travel weary mind; but here she was, in the flesh, just as the little bird had said she would be.  _Trust the bargeman indeed…_

The song in his head was now a lively piece and he could see quite clearly that it matched her movements almost perfectly.  It was like a dance…as though she _was_ the melody; or was it she who was conducting it?  He watched her with a feeling like awe and his heart felt the lightest it had been in months…he had never felt anything like this in his life before. 

At first, he had been slightly afraid of the music that he alone could hear.  He was fearful to admit that he might be going slightly crazy, like old Bifur, who sometimes seemed to have conversations with people who weren’t really there.  But then the little bird had appeared and spoken to him; which on thinking more about that, should have added to his fears of being off kilter, but whether or not Fili had imagined the whole thing, the little fellow had spoken the truth.    

As he watched her bustle around his little brother, doing what she could for him, cleaning around his wound and making him comfortable, Fili was overcome with thankfulness and pride.  His One was beautiful, kind and compassionate… _and authoritative_.  She had moved forward to help without even asking their names, or even what their purpose was for invading her home.   She barked out orders to those around her and _everyone_ moved to do her bidding, even Thorin, he noticed with amused disbelief.  She commanded, but not with anger or cruelty, rather, determined purpose and confidence; all admirable qualities in a wife. _Mahal!  A wife!?_   As the blush rose on his face, he felt he understood better now what Kili had meant after meeting Tauriel.  This was her…his _One_ …his Songbird; and he, her Raven King. 

As he continued to watch her quietly, he detected something else in the way she carried herself.  If he hadn’t been trained to see it, he might have missed it.  She had the bearing of a warrior! He could see it in the way she reached for things and the way she stood when idle; it was an old technique, a relaxed pose that all swordsmen learned.  And the way she handled that carving knife of hers said she knew how to use it for more than making dinner.  She was a beautiful mystery and Fili bided his time until he could speak with her privately. 

***

When she was satisfied that the young, dark haired Dwarf was resting as comfortably as she could make him, Sigrid allowed herself a moment alone with her thoughts.  She wandered outside onto the quay and stood, facing into the lite breeze dancing in from across the lake.  It was dark now, the stars overhead shining down brightly through patches in the foggy night air. 

The fire inside her hadn’t tempered one bit.  Her mark was still pulsing; albeit more subdued than previously.  It was no longer in time with her own heartbeat, but that didn’t mean it didn’t thrum to the rhythm of someone else’s…someone perhaps with crystal clear blue eyes, a handsomely rugged face and lovely, soft looking lips… _no!_  Sigrid viciously shot those thoughts down.  She didn’t want this!  She had sworn to herself on seeing what had become of her father after her mother’s death that she wouldn’t fall victim to the same fate.   But now that it was truly happening, and wasn’t just some abstract idea, what could she really do?  The pull she was feeling was almost too much to resist.  Even now, as steadfastly as she was trying to struggle against it, she couldn’t help feeling a deep need to go to him, to kneel before him and kiss away all his pains; to hold him to her bosom, and protect him for the rest of time.  Her face heated as her mind traitorously showed her delicious visions of his arms around her, caressing her… _no!_

She felt the tears before she realized she was crying.  Almost her entire being was screaming to go to him, but the little part of her that she could still control was in charge and she stood firm, hands tight on the railing in front of her, as if should she let go, all her hard fought resolve would waiver and she would give in.  Vaguely she heard the door open and then close again behind her.  She knew even with her eyes closed, who it was. She opened her eyes at his approach. 

The blond Dwarf moved to stand right next to her and looked out upon the lake at her example.  After a few moments of silence, which Sigrid hoped he would take to mean she did not wish to speak with him, _he_ , spoke to _her_. 

“My Lady, please accept my most heartfelt gratitude for all that you have done for my brother,” he said, turning to look at her. 

“Sigrid…my name…is Sigrid,” she answered tightly, eyes still straight ahead, hands now white from the grip she had on the railing, “I am no Lady.”

“My apologies my La…Sigrid,” he stumbled, “I meant no offence.” 

 “None was taken Master Dwarf, I assure you,” was about all she could manage through gritted teeth.  _Why was this so hard!_ She should be able to fight this, deny what was happening!  But with every minute, every second, her will was crumbling…

 "My name is Fili,” and with that simple, innocent statement, the walls came tumbling down.  She turned to look at him and was utterly lost. 

Many years later, when her children would ask her how she knew that their father, the Raven King, was her One, she was only ever able to answer “I just knew my darlings…I just knew, ” because that was the truth of it.  There was more to it than that, she supposed, but she was hard pressed to understand it herself and therefore could never explain it to anyone else. 

He reached for her then and she let him; she didn’t pull away.  When his broad hand covered hers, the overwhelming heat immediately fled from her body and was replaced with a river of warm energy that wrapped her up more securely and comfortably than anything else she had ever experienced.  She hadn’t felt this whole since before her mother had died.  The last of the barriers she placed over her heart dissipated like nothing more than a lite fog on the lake as the morning sun’s first rays burnt it away. 

The moment they touched, Sigrid heard the beginnings of a soft strain of music.  She felt the tears streaming down her cheeks and when his free hand moved to wipe them away, the song swelled in her and she knew.  _She knew…_ If she wanted to be truly herself again, to love and allow herself to be loved in return, she had to accept her destiny.   The song she heard was theirs; the intricate and delicate harmonies of their souls meeting as one.  He was hers and she was his.  She could see it in his kind and knowing eyes that he heard it too; this was meant to be.  It all felt so simple and right here in this moment with him; with _Fili…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...so more from Laketown soon...Tauriel and Legolas are still out there hunting Orcs! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with our hunters and more fluff and angst from Laketown :)

Tauriel could feel the pulse of her mark slowly getting weaker the closer she and Legolas got to Laketown.  She was once again almost overcome with the urge to cut a direct path to where she could feel Kili was.  It was all she could do to keep herself still; but she had to, otherwise she would give away their precarious position.  Instead, she silently repeated her prayer to the Valar to gift Kili with enough of her strength and energy to last until she found him again. 

***

The night they had spoken together at length in the dungeons, they had figured out quickly that what had happened when they first met in the forest (and before as well), had been their bond allowing them to share their strengths with each other.  Kili’s senses and physical abilities had been temporarily heightened to that of an Elf, while Tauriel had been provisionally gifted with the heat and passion for battle of the Khazad.  Kili had also told her the “low, rumbling murmur” she described having heard was most likely due to his own ability to listen to the stone around him.  She had been most intrigued by this and was looking forward to Kili teaching her more about it. 

Tauriel had found out on her own, that if she pictured his beautiful, smiling face in her mind’s eye, it was easier to send him some of her life force.  It wasn’t nearly enough, however; she could tell because she still had plenty in reserve for herself and the tempo of her mark was becoming labored.  She had wished many times over the last hours that she could send him more, and had in fact attempted to do so.  Tauriel would have done anything to keep Kili whole until she could heal him; but as it turned out, their connection had a failsafe.  No matter how hard she tried, she could not send him so much that it would incapacitate herself.  Her body simply wouldn’t allow it.  She understood, seeing as they were no good to each other dead, but it was still frustrating to learn that their link had limits.  Perhaps, though, their bond worked like any other muscle in the body and could get stronger with repeated usage.  It was something to consider with Kili once she recovered him. 

She and Legolas were currently sitting high in the trees, watching as a small group of about a dozen Orcs milled around arguing with one another.  They had been tracking the filth for several hours now, but had learned next to nothing regarding their purpose or who had sent them.  The only thing that they knew for certain was that the group was still doggedly pursuing the Dwarves.

Legolas thought he recognized a symbol some of them were wearing like a badge, but he seemed apprehensive to discuss this with his sister.  When she asked him outright, he told her that it looked familiar, but that he wasn’t certain where he had seen it before.   She could tell he was holding back, but didn’t push; she knew her brother well and that he would share his thoughts when he was ready. 

After about an hour of just sitting and watching, Tauriel had reached the limit of her patience. She conveyed this to Legolas with a look, who communicated that he too was getting antsy.  They had just silently agreed to move on and make directly for Laketown when a large brute of an Orc, perhaps the largest Tauriel had ever seen, appeared through the trees and addressed the group in their native Black Speech.  Tauriel and Legolas froze where they were and listened:

“I have confirmed that the Dwarf scum have been delayed in Laketown.  The dark haired archer is fatally wounded; probably won’t last the night.”  A chorus of cheers and guffaws met this news. 

Tauriel fought to keep her stomach where it was at the newcomer’s revelation.  She felt for Kili through their bond once again and confirmed he still drew breath and this calmed her; but she knew the truth of what the Orc had said.  Morgul wounds were notoriously fatal if not treated in a timely manner by one skilled in such healing.  Luckily for Kili, both she _and_ Legolas had inherited their mother’s great gift. _But first they had to get to him…_ Once again, she sent a wave of her essence to Kili. 

She felt her brother’s hand on her shoulder then; not holding her in place, but there for reassurance.  Tauriel was grateful for the gesture and was able to settle enough to listen for a few minutes more.

“We must intercept them before they get to the Mountain.  My father wants them _all_ dead, long before that happens,” continued the hulking Orc.

His _father?_ Tauriel didn’t think that Orcs _had_ actual parents.  She supposed (disgustedly so) that the Orcs were “fully functional”…but seriously…what woman would agree to breed with one? _Most likely none would_ , the thought came, and she prayed for sympathy from the Valar for whichever woman was probably violated to bring this abomination to life. 

“Has Azog given any further instructions as to how he expects us to accomplish that?  We weren’t supposed to let the humans or the Elves see us…” grunted an underling. 

So his father was _Azog_ …the infamous “Pale Orc” himself; Scourge of the Line of Durin. 

“That doesn’t matter anymore.  They’re too close now. He wants them dead and doesn’t care how. The Dark Lord wants the Mountain, and my father will deliver it to him! Now get ready to shove off!”

Tauriel and Legolas shared a fearful glance.  If Azog was involved, that meant that these Orcs weren’t just a band of disorganized rabble. The Spawn had also mentioned “The Dark Lord”… _which was truly troubling…_

The Orcs set out for Laketown then, unaware that two of the First Born were hot on their trail. 

***

Kili was absolutely certain he was dying.  His entire body felt like it was burning up.  The cooling, soothing energy that he now knew flowed directly from Tauriel to him through their soul bond was barely touching the flames of pain that were licking at him from the arrow wound. 

He wasn’t really listening to what was going on around him, but he had noticed the pained look on the face of the young woman who had treated his wound.  Her reaction to it was not promising and her eyes were filled with sympathy for him.  He also observed looks being exchanged between her and his brother but at the time, assumed they were conversing silently regarding him.  That worried Kili, wondering how bad it was that they didn’t wish to say anything to him directly.  He hoped that when Tauriel reached him, she would know what to do to help him; except, Tauriel had yet to arrive and Kili felt keenly every minute without her.   

To distract himself, he glanced around the little house and saw his comrades preparing for sleep; his uncle and old Balin the only two still speaking with the bargeman who had helped them.  They were discussing the procurement of weapons from the town armory, as the weapons the bargeman had produced for them were severely substandard by Dwarven reckoning.  The plan that took shape was for them all to take some rest first and then break into the armory.  They would then proceed to “borrow” what they needed, and leave first thing in the morning for the Mountain.  He hoped that he was at least mobile enough by then not to delay their progress.

***

A little while later, he watched as the young lady who had tended him ducked outside.  Kili also made note that Fili followed suit shortly thereafter.  This surprised him a little, for though she was certainly beautiful, that alone had never been enough incentive to take Fili from his side before; especially when Kili was injured, as he was now.   He wondered…

Fili had been acting a bit… _off…_ since the night before their escape from the dungeons in Mirkwood.   At one point, Fili had questioned if he, Kili, could hear some sort of song or music, but Kili hadn’t really understood the question (they had been in Mirkwood for crying out loud, which meant there was always some sort of soft music in the air) and he had been too distracted by his own situation with Tauriel to really process what Fili had been asking.  He then remembered how Fili had had quite the appetite on the day of their planned escape; so much so, that Kili had been worried for him.  He had watched with something like dread, as his brother ate not only his own meal but then all of Kili’s as well!  Kili had warned him, knowing what they faced with their upcoming barrel ride; but Fili had ignored his concerns.  Before they could discuss anything in any greater detail however, they had been ushered out of their cells by Bilbo.  Then, of course, everything had gotten pretty intense during the chase downriver.  Kili did however, clearly remember how robust and vigorous Fili had appeared on the water, which had taken him by complete surprise; but nothing up to that point had prepared him for how crazy things would get once their barrels came to rest on the shore.  

Kili wasn’t certain if what he had seen had actually taken place, or if he had simply been delirious due to the pain he was in; but he was almost certain he had seen his brother speaking to, of all things…a little bird!  What truly scared him though, was that it seemed to have been a two way conversation.  Looking back on all of these seemingly unrelated occurrences, he wondered now if the looks shared between his brother and the young girl had been more than just a mutual concern over him.  _Could she be Fili’s One?_ He supposed it was possible; but seeing as he still barely knew what to expect from his own soul mark, he could hardly imagine what to expect from his brother’s.  Perhaps these _had_ been signs that Fili had been close to his own meeting…  Kili found himself strangely light of heart at the thought.  It didn’t last long…

***

A wave of pain crashed over him then, and through gritted teeth, he did his best to visualize Tauriel in his mind.  He found that if he pictured her clearly, he could feel the energy she was undoubtedly sending him more strongly.  He wished with all that he was that she was here now; if not to heal him, then to at least be with him when the end came.  

Kili already loved Tauriel so much that at times, he felt he would burst with the feeling.  He hadn’t said anything to his uncle yet; there simply hadn’t been an opportunity.  With his injury and the Mountain looming so close, now also really wasn’t the time.  He could guess how it would go though.    Thorin would yell and bluster and carry on, but in the end it would be his mother Dis who would bring rational thought and reason back to the situation and his uncle would have no choice but to come around.  Kili also hadn’t forgotten his uncle’s promise all those weeks ago in Rivendell; that they would all be in this together.  He prayed to Mahal that that promise would hold and that it would extend to his brother and his One, as he breathed himself through the swell of pain. 

***

Fili felt like he couldn’t tell which way was up.  He was upset and worried for his brother, but another piece of him felt as light as air.  He was standing on a dock in a little town he had never been to, with a woman he had never met before yet somehow felt he knew intimately. 

The girl, she had given her name as Sigrid, had clearly been fighting whatever was happening between them, Fili could tell.  He didn’t understand; Fili himself was overjoyed at the prospect of discovering who his One could be.  Why did his Lady not reciprocate?  Her small hand was warm under his and he flashed what he hoped was a small, reassuring smile her way. 

“Fili, I…I know who you are,” she said softly, her face stoic.  “Well, I mean…,” and here she stumbled a little.  “I mean, I know _what_ you are.”

“I know as well, Sigrid,” he replied.  “Our song has led me to you…can you hear it?” he asked hopefully.

“I hear it now.  Now that you are with me,” she said shyly, her stony façade slipping.  “It scares me…” she uttered, almost too quietly for Fili to hear; but her eyes, which met his, were fearful.    

“Why should it scare you my Lady? Can you not feel this is meant to be?  We have been crafted by the Maker for one another and against all odds, here we are… _together_ ,” he said almost reverently, allowing the light he was feeling inside to show in his eyes. 

“That is exactly what scares me Master Dwarf,” was the reply as she appeared to regain some of her composure.  “I have been a firsthand witness to a doomed soul match and I cannot tell you the utter sadness and agony it leaves in its wake,” and here her eyes began to well. 

“Sigrid, we can’t will this away, and I am not sorry for that,” Fili explained.  “But I am sorry, however, that you had to experience something so awful.  The bonded…they were close to you?” he asked gently, still holding her smaller hand in his larger. 

His heart just about broke as she collapsed to her knees then.  Fili fell to her side immediately and was surprised when she buried her head in his shoulder, and then folding herself into his arms, proceeded to explain through her sobs how her mother had died in childbirth with her sister and that her father had been left all but a shell ever since. 

She was scared, but was being as open as she could be with Fili.  He understood her feelings about their situation better after she had explained what had happened with her parents.   Now that he had found her, Fili felt that he too might become just a shell…or worse…if he lost her.  He couldn’t imagine what the poor bargeman had gone through, losing his One and then attempting to raise a young family on his own.  His heart swelled with sympathy and admiration for the man then, as well as for the beautiful woman slumped across his chest at the moment. 

“You are so brave and strong my girl,” he cooed softly, as he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead.  “You are as lovely as the morning light over the Erid Luin in springtime, but as steadfast as the mighty Oak in winter.  Yes, I can see it clearly.  You are my other half; the melody that completes my song.  I cannot promise you that we won’t meet a similar end my Lady, but I can promise that we will meet whatever is to come together,” he said solemnly and willed her to believe him. 

She calmed a little then, still resting in his arms as Fili rocked her back and forth.  He began to softly hum a tune of his homeland, one his mother would sing to he and Kili before bed when they were Dwarflings.  He heard her sigh deeply against his chest and a few moments later, felt the moment she drifted off as her form went limp in his grasp.    

Fili clung to her in the darkness; the silver light of the stars poking through the foggy night sky above the lake, highlighting her dark blond curls.  He brushed his lips over the crown of her head, lingering as he took in the gentle scent that was Sigrid.  They would learn to trust each other, trust their bond.  That would come with time, Fili was certain.  He had meant everything he had said to Sigrid about facing the future together.  But now, looking up at the silhouette of the Mountain looming in the distance and thinking of his brother still wounded and in pain in the little house behind him, Fili just hoped they all still had a future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting...been studying for an exam so I've not been able to write as much as I would have liked...hope its enjoyable! Next time, I'm hoping to showcase the battle with the Orcs at Laketown, but we'll have to see :) Once again, thanks to all who read, comment, kudo and subscribe! It means the world...


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! An update! Its been a while and I am so sorry! if you're reading, thanks for sticking with me!

Tauriel usually loved the feel of the wind through her hair up in the canopy of Mirkwood Forest; it helped calm and relax her.  But right now, all it did was serve as yet another reminder that she still wasn’t with Kili. 

She and Legolas had been slowly tracking the Orcs since the day before, not stopping at all throughout the night as they inched ever closer to Laketown.  The entire experience had been pure torture for Tauriel, for the pull she felt from her bond with Kili had become increasingly harder to push aside, the closer they got to their destination.  But, she reasoned, if she and Legolas were still following them, then at least these Orcs were not off terrorizing the Dwarves or any other innocents…yet.  So she continued in her efforts to calm herself and did her best to resist the ever present tug on her heart.  _Deep breaths…deep breaths…_

***

The erratic pulsing of her mark had seemed to steady some hours before; although she noted with some trepidation, that it hadn’t gotten any stronger.  She felt for Kili through their bond (again, for what had to be at least the millionth time) and sure enough, there he was.  He was still with her and it seemed that at least for the moment, the direness of his situation may have abated some; although no amount of danger to Kili, however small, would ever be acceptable to Tauriel.  He was still gravely wounded and she hoped that somewhere in his travels, he had come across someone who could help him or at least make him comfortable.  Tauriel vowed to thank for their kindness, whoever may have tended him.

They had started to move at a faster pace and as she glanced to where Legolas was beside her, she felt a swell of affection and pride looking at him in that moment; her ever dutiful brother, watching out for her as he had always done.  He returned her gaze and must have seen something telling on her face, because just loud enough to be above the whisper of the wind, he said “We are almost there Tinu…only a little longer now.”  He had said it with such feeling that Tauriel couldn’t help but be affected by it.  She felt a familiar sting in her eyes and shooed the sensation away best she could.  She had to focus on matters at hand; _only a little longer now_ …his confident promise gave her strength. 

All of a sudden, the big Orc, Azog’s Spawn, raised an arm and the whole pack slowed to a standstill in a small clearing.  The two hunters halted their own progress, unseen and unheard in the trees above. Tauriel then watched as he moved forward and seemed to be sniffing the air for something.  It was getting late in the day again and Tauriel was in a panic at the thought of spending yet another night on the trail of these filthy beasts. 

Out of the shadows, another, smaller group of Orcs emerged from the trees and proceeded towards the main party.  One of the new arrivals approached The Spawn and started speaking…

“Bolg, the Dwarf scum have been…further delayed; imprisoned by the Men for attempted weapons theft.   They’re locked up nice and tight and going nowhere.”

At the vicious laughter she heard in reply to this statement, Tauriel almost went wild with hot, red rage.  She wasn’t even aware she had grabbed for her weapons, but her hands gripped her knives so tightly at the sounds of their mocking that her knuckles went white.  Legolas caught her arm and her eye and stared at her until she quietly re-sheathed them.  She wasn’t used to these types of emotions clouding her usually clear mind; it was part of what Kili brought to their bond…a sometimes insatiable lust for battle and fighting, especially when provoked as she had just been.  After a few moments though, the need to spill blood had subsided some and she threw a sheepish look towards her brother in apology.  He was no longer looking at her, but watching and listening to what was occurring beneath them.

“Excellent news; incompetent curs can’t even steal properly!” was the jocular, snarling response from Bolg, who was sporting a nasty grin; his rotten teeth showing in the ugly gap that passed for his mouth.    “This means we have time then.  Get a camp set up!  We’ll take some rest and surprise them before first light.”  At that, there was some grumbling but all of them set immediately to work. 

Tauriel looked to Legolas and she could see he was distressed.  “Hanar? I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling guilty over yet another momentary lack of self-control. True, she was impetuous by nature, but Tauriel was not used to these new feelings and they were taking their toll.  She would need to learn to control these impulses better; idly, she wondered how Kili managed it all, if this was how he walked around feeling all time.  _It was exhausting!_

“It’s not you Tinu, but…we will talk later…” he replied shortly.  “As soon as they are adequately distracted, we move.”    She nodded her assent at this plan and then less than patiently, hunkered down to wait for him to make that call and worry about Kili. 

***

After about an hour, she could hear that most of the Orcs had taken the opportunity to sleep; the cacophonous noise of their snoring disturbing her sensitive Elven ears.  She glanced to Legolas and it was his turn to nod…it was time.  Quietly, they skirted through the treetops until they were far enough away from the Orc pack not to be overheard, and then dropped to the ground.  Once they landed, Legolas immediately set a hard pace and she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they would reach Kili soon and sure enough, in what seemed like no time at all, they had reached the edge of the lake and could see the towers of the town illuminated by the brightening light of the stars. 

Tauriel wanted to continue on into Laketown immediately, but Legolas stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Wait Tauriel,” was all he said for a moment.  She could see from his countenance that he was searching for the words he needed, so she waited as patiently as she could for him to gather his thoughts. 

“What do you remember from…from when Naneth was taken from us?” he asked cautiously. 

Tauriel froze at his question, not understanding why he would ask such a thing at such a time.

“I am not sure what you mean Legolas,” she replied hesitantly. 

“The Orcs we were tracking…they wear a mark I remember seeing once.  I couldn’t be certain at first because their raiment was so poor.”

“Yes, I recall you mentioning something.  Do you remember now where you know it from?” she asked, not really certain that she wanted to hear his answer.

“Yes.  When the other party of Ocrs arrived, I became certain, as the mark was more easily visible on their armor.”  And here, he hesitated so long, Tauriel wasn’t certain he was going to continue. 

“Tinu, the Orcs we are dealing with…the filth we have been tracking…are the same as those who took Naneth from us; _who took her from Ada_.  These are _Gundabad Orcs_ Tauriel…” he finished softly, a pained look having stolen over his face at the admission. 

Tauriel’s breath caught in her throat.  Her _Naneth_ …her beautiful, loving, golden _Naneth_.  Of course she had been told what had happened all those long years ago and it pained her even now to think of it.  She had suffered nightmares for centuries because of what had happened and without her brother’s unending affections and support, she was uncertain of what her mental state may have become.   Now, at Legolas’ revelation, her memories of that time, and all the anger and sadness that accompanied them, came right back to the forefront. 

***

Her parents had been away fighting in the Dragon Wars of the north when her mother had been taken captive.  The Queen of Mirkwood had resolutely refused to aid the enemy willingly, and they had brutally tortured her for her obstinacy; eventually killing her with dragon fire.  Their Ada had been nearly mortally wounded by the same in his attempt to rescue his One from her fate.  

Thranduil had come home a husk of his former self and Tauriel remembered being in fear that they would lose him too; not to his wounds, which were indeed quite serious…but to the fading that afflicts an Elf at the breaking of their soul bond.  For the first time, it truly hit home for Tauriel just what her father had lost so long ago. 

It was true; Kili had not been part of her life for very long yet. But having a soul bond was an all or nothing thing.  Now that they had opened themselves to each other, they were bound to one another for the rest of eternity, even if one of them passed from this life.  She hadn’t mentioned it to Kili yet, but because he was bonded to her and she could share her life force with him, she knew deep in her heart that he would live indefinitely, as she would; that was a basic tenant of soul bonds…they allowed the bonded to share their best attributes and traits with each other.  Tauriel’s recently acquired and sometimes overwhelming battle lust was evidence of this.  But either one of them could still die from a serious wound… _like a Morgul shaft to the leg…_  

She felt she had a newfound respect and understanding for the sheer strength of will it must have taken for her father to survive such a tragedy.  All at once she realized that he must have done it solely for them; for her and Legolas.  Tauriel’s heart almost broke when she thought now, of how unfair her opinions on his past actions had been and she longed to apologize to him for her youthful ignorance.  She simply hadn’t known, hadn’t understood…then; but she knew better now…

“ _Gundabad_ Hanar? Are you sure?” she asked, a touch of desperation to her voice; but she had to know.

“You were not old enough at the time, but I remember seeing some of the things dragged home by the army.  Some of the detritus had the exact markings these Orcs wear and I remember Sador, father’s former Captain of the Guard, saying that it was the mark of Gundabad Fortress.    These Orcs are the same as those who tortured Naneth, Tinu.  I am sorry, but I _am_ certain.”

“But the fortress was abandoned.  The darkness was driven away Legolas…” she stopped short, the craving for battle returning, as she thought of all the evils that were still in residence in their forest home.  Perhaps it was all related.  Perhaps the Orcs _had_ made their way back north to their stronghold… _could the Spiders have merely been an attempt at distraction? An endless supply of fodder to keep their peoples’ watchful eyes turned elsewhere?_

“We must investigate it Tauriel.  Once we reach the Dwarves and do what we can for young Kili, we must take our leave and head towards the fortress to learn what we might,” he said; cold determination plain in his expression. 

Tauriel was torn; one half of her wanted to continue on, find and heal her Kili and then do as Legolas was proposing.  But the other half was once again filled with an unquenchable blood lust, much stronger than she had felt it before.  That half wanted nothing more than to head straight back into the forest and slaughter every last one of the abominations she could get her blades on for what had happened to her mother.  _Forget arrows_ ; they were too quick and too clean for the type of work she had in mind.  These were the creatures that had tortured and murdered her Naneth and were now threatening to do the same to her Kili!  _How could Legolas walk away so calmly from that!?_ Her blood was singing with need for the fight; her fingers itching to use her knives! 

She must have betrayed something of her inner struggle, because before she knew it, Legolas’ hands were at her shoulders and this time, he _was_ holding her in place.

“Tinu, I did not tell you this so that you could wage a one Elleth war against all of Gundabad Fortress! You must calm yourself.  Kili needs you…your One needs you Tauriel.  Don’t forget that in your haste for vengeance!”   _And of course he would be the voice of reason._

Tauriel forced herself to calm her breathing and again thought that she and Kili really did need to discuss more about their bond.  His ferocious appetite for fighting was something she really needed to get used to dealing with.  It wasn’t unwelcome …she felt a little extra passion might be a good thing, especially in the heat of a battle; she also couldn’t help her thoughts from drifting to how that same heat and passion might be put to good use for other things as well... 

Thoughts like that were not helping though, so she pushed them away for another time.  Soon, she was able to focus enough so that she and Legolas could formulate a plan to free the Dwarves from yet another set of prison cells. 

***

Kili felt absolutely horrible.  Not only had he been the reason the Company had all been arrested  (his wounded leg had given out on the stairs when he had tried to carry more than his share of weapons and he and the steel had clattered to the ground, rousing every guard within a mile’s radius), but now he had been left behind as well. 

***

After the armory incident, they had been taken to the town jail; this time, Bilbo included, so the trick from the Elven King’s halls simply wouldn’t have worked again.  They had only been there an hour when the Master of Laketown had come to Thorin himself, having learned of their intentions to reach the Mountain.  Once the greedy man determined Thorin’s claims to be true, he released them, but not before securing for his town (or more likely himself) a share of the wealth that was Erebor. 

They had been wined and dined after that, the party lasting until well after moonset.  After several mugs, Thorin had given an impressive, impassioned speech about how the Dwarves of the Mountain and the Men of Dale and Esgaroth had worked together in the past and how he would see those days restored, that the wealth of Erebor was there, just waiting to be used to restore the land to its former greatness.  There had been no mention of the fire breathing dragon still in residence in the Mountain. 

The people of Laketown were completely in awe of their now revered “guests”.  Kili was disgusted by the entire scene, but what could he do?  They needed the help of this greedy, immoral man calling himself the Master. 

The festivities only came to a halt when Thorin insisted that it was time for them to get moving and even then, it seemed like the entire town was there to see them off.  A boat had been made ready and they had been “gifted” with armor and weapons from the best the town had to offer.  Of course, they still weren’t of Dwarven quality, but they were better than going without. 

At the side of the quay, Thorin had stopped Kili from getting on the boat. 

“Uncle?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Not you Kili.  Not this time,” was Thorin’s reply.  “You are too seriously wounded and I would never be able to look Dis in the eye again if something even more serious were to befall you.”

“What do you mean? I must go! Uncle this is my birthright!” he argued, a hurt more painful than the one in his leg, settling in his heart.  What if Tauriel went straight to the Mountain for him and he wasn’t there? He could feel her through their bond and knew she was getting closer, but would she think he had gone on with the rest of the Company or would their bond lead her straight to him no matter where he was?  He simply wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to take the chance of not being where he was supposed to be. 

“What you say is true!  It is your birthright and when you recover, you will join us.  Do you not think this is difficult for me?  I have dreamed of having both you and your brother at my side when we enter the Mountain.  You deserve so much to see it…and you will Nephew! But I will not risk further danger to you. In this, I will not be gainsaid,” Thorin said; his tone and his expression showing true concern, but brooking no opposition.   

With that, Kili dragged himself over to an upended shipping crate and sat down, utterly dejected.  To make matters worse, his brother, his loving, steady and devoted brother, had demanded their Uncle let him stay with Kili. 

"Fili, your place is with the Company.  Don’t you wish to be there when we enter?  It will be your kingdom one day!”

“Uncle, you cannot ask me to leave Kili here, alone and wounded.  I will not!  My place is with my brother.  He and I will join you once he recovers.”  Fili said bluntly as he made his way over to where Kili was sitting.  He had always been so protective of him, ever since they were small Dwarflings still clinging to their mother’s apron strings.  Kili had never been gladder to have his big brother than in that moment.   He also secretly suspected Fili had other motives for wanting to stay.  His brother had not been present at the feast and neither had young Sigrid, the girl who had tended him on their arrival. 

Because Kili was wounded, Oin remained as well, stating that it was his duty to look after him, even though they all knew there was nothing the aging healer could do for him.   It wasn’t until well after the boat had left the dock that Bofur came running from somewhere, still drunk, asking what time the next boat was leaving. 

Before they could make a plan as to what to do next, Kili felt the world spin and blackness overtook him…

***

At the town jail, Tauriel and Legolas were confused to find only empty cells.  Had the Orc lied? It was possible, she supposed, but not likely.  On further investigation (eavesdropping on the two guards at their station) they learned that the Dwarves had been released and were thought to be departing for the Mountain sometime before dawn.  They shared a glance and would have moved on immediately, except at that exact moment, Tauriel was overcome by a strong wave of pain that she knew had struck Kili.  It ebbed out like ripples on a pond from her soul mark and she knew that he was in danger and needed her right away. 

She didn’t even wait for Legolas to follow her, she simply stalked off in the direction her heart told her Kili was in.  Tauriel had no idea if their bond would bring her straight to him or if it would direct her to just his general area, but it didn’t matter.  Tauriel would tear Laketown to pieces searching for him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hopefully it was enjoyable :) My writing time has gotten scarce lately (thanks work!) but I am trying my best to keep up with all my stories! Thanks for sticking with me :)


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